[Don't even think about calling this "bottle service." It's "Table Service" at Avenue. Photos via NYT]
If you read Allen Salkin's article in the Sunday Styles this week, you know high-school English teacher Amanda Hunt is PISSED. She came all the way from Port St. Lucie, Florida in the hopes of having to wait in a long line outside a club, be scrutinized by the likes of Wass Stevens or one of his croonies, pay $18 for a cosmo, have the cosmo spilled all over her when some sweaty guy bumps into her, get separated from her friends, dance wildly to "Umbrella", find friends crying in the bathroom, and stumble out at 4:30 am with smeared makeup, bump-it askew, but one hell of a story to tell her English class.
Instead, at Bar 675, she found a pinball machine. And books. And worst of all, she could hear herself talk. Not good.
"You don’t open a bar in the meatpacking district and make it low key." She said, disgusted.
We're sorry, Amanda. We hope you made it to Kim Kardashian's Vodka party at Greenhouse, which would have surely lived up to your NYC club expectations.
Speaking of clubs, Noah Tepperberg wants you to know that Avenue is not one. No really, it isn't. Gastro-lounge? Yes. Recreational Socialization Point? Sure. Meetinghouse, With Alcohol and Dancing? Okie Dokie. But it really, definitely, absolutely, is not a club. If it were a CLUB, it would have BOTTLE-SERVICE. Wait, what? Oh, you mean that thing where you can order $350 bottles to your table in silver buckets? Omg, that is SO not bottle-service! That is TABLE service! Guys, it's totally different! Avenue has Vinyl tables! It's like Cheers!
At least Ms.Hunt didn't accidentally find herself at Superdive, a bar which celebrates Manday (wait, isn't that every day of the week?) with bottle-service kegs of EKU Pils.
This is getting out of hand. People are going to get the wrong impression of New York night life. It's time for Guest of a Guest to intervene on behalf of the city.
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Dear Rest Of The World,
You may have read, in our esteemed New York Times this Sunday, about a certain club-that-is-not-a-club, and a certain bar that actually celebrates something called ManDay.
Rest assured, this is NOT an accurate representation of our city's nightlife. There are lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of other places to choose from.
We promise we won't ever let it get THAT bad.
Sincerely,
Guest of a Guest
p.s. Do not be caught calling Avenue a club in front of Wass.