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Sometimes you want to go out to a bar to laugh and make merry and hang out with friends. And sometimes you want to just sit alone and brood. This list is for the surly, the hurt, the damaged, and the depressed: all of those, that is, who take refuge in the bottle and just want to be left alone.
You won't find many gentlemen in this "gentleman's club," which is one of the oldest, sleaziest, and best strip bars in New York.
Mostly known as a dark, ancient, utterly authentic Irish bar of a kind rarely seen nowadays, Molly's also happens to serve a wonderful if atomic-sized hamburger. Two people can easily split it, as long as both have a good pint of stout each.
Dylan Thomas drank himself to death here, and you can too, assuming you come at a slow hour, before the bridge-and-tunnel types get there. Then you'll want a gun.
Just an absolute rathole, filthy and teeming with end-of-the-road drunks with one foot on a barstool and one in potter's field. New York used to have a million of these, but nowadays true dive bars are few and far between. This is one of them.
Grungy, dark, and with germs so big they have their own drink tabs, this is one of the last punk bars left in New York.
The old East Village was above all an Eastern European neighborhood, and this beer bar celebrates that tradition with dozens, if not hundreds, of brews from that part of the world. A great break from the bro-holes that pollute the neighborhood nowadays.
There's no food, no music, and no joy in this seedy West Side bar -- it's the kind of place a Burroughs or Bukowski might have gone to drink alone in expire in the shadows.
