This venue is closed.
After a couple of drinks, this tiny, cylindrical room with soundproof padded walls starts to feel like an amusement park ride (the one that spins while you stick to the walls). So take it slowly on the seriously strong, expertly prepared martinis. As you might expect, the six mirror-topped tables and the miniature bar are occupied by wealthy tourists and business people. With quiet piped-in music and everyone speaking in hushed, well-mannered whispers, you get the sense that drinking here is an act of reverence, not revelry. So behave—or take your boisterous self over to 44, the larger and livelier bar and restaurant next door.
Picnics with a view, roller-skating nostalgia, and a party for gay headbangers.