This venue is closed.
The handsome looks of this dark, stately bar would please the namesake patron saint of librarians with its ornate molded ceilings. The tumblers of bourbon would likely delight him as well. But as to the go-go girl who occasionally gyrates on an adjacent platform, that’s another story. Mirrors along the narrow space's grooved brown walls allow U-booth occupants discreet looks of said dancer as well as of a nightly D.J. spinning retro rock and indie pop from a raised booth. As with owner Frannie Marchese's other petite bars—Welcome to the Johnsons and 151—many of the skinny, boot-heeled rockers show up after midnight—and definitely not because they've spent the evening translating Latin. Far from the world of "Quiet Please" signs, no one's going to shush an enthusiastic patron who's squealing, "I haven't heard Neutral Milk Hotel in years!"
Picnics with a view, roller-skating nostalgia, and a party for gay headbangers.