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This neighborhood spot’s name might just come from the fact that it’s built like a railroad apartment, with a mezzanine just big enough for a pool table and a back hall just long enough for a bar. Slender twentysomethings in ironic t-shirts slouch in banquettes near the front. During the day, the sun streams in to the wooden bar, while neighborhood artists watch sports on two mounted TVs or scope colleagues’ paintings hanging on the red walls. Come nighttime, the DJs spinning rock and new wave do their thing. Wrought-iron stairs lead to a tiny fuschia mezzanine where you can (barely) shoot pool. Well drinks run a little watery, but cheap domestic beers and snappy service compensate. — Alec Appelbaum