< topography - Murray Hill

  

Fáíte
2, 30/29
Murray Hill
Manhattan
[That awning, that "Irish Whiskey Bar" calls out from across 2 Ave. There stands against lumbering high rise residences, against the Kips Bay Loews, a green two/three story house; sign out front says, "Have your party here!" but five minutes inside has me wondering, "Why?" Not even the stunning tree trunk tables seem to compensate for the boofsah pool room with porno-style video games, for the computerized cash registers, for the mal musique on a rainy Monday night. Fáíte is a disturbing confusion of intentions. A space this marvelous should not be given over to dual televisions, to strange dates, in which beaded necklaces clash with polo shirts and shiny wingtips, to a philosophy summarized in a sentence: Turn Up The Volume Too High And They Will Come. "Dream on, white boy, dream on, black girl..." I don't know who wrote this song, care less who actually performs it; when the revolution comes, he will be taken out and shot. Forget it, Jim; show me the way  out of this whiskey bar.]

Paddy Reilly's
2 @ 29
Murray Hill
Manhattan
[Me pins shimmy a little zigging south out of Fáíte, so I duck in to shoot one straight and, well, to pee. Here is what I wrote betwixt sips: "'The World's First And Only Draft Guinness Bar' charges $5.50 per pint. (This is the hood where I underwent months of root canal purgatory, too.) 'Performance' space: 'Celtic Symphony,' he announces, 'for all the Celts in the audience.' I count 11 total, Celt or not, plus the tender. A bookshelf above the doorway to the darts room. Regulars of the über variety—whoah!—discussing their regularhood, discussing the different sets of music slotted on the box for specific people, because so-and-so loves such-and-such so much, etc. 'So you're moving back in with your parents?' 'Well, yeah, I'm just moving back up to Poughkeepsie for August.' 'Let me tell you about my first real job...' (Can they see that I'm transcribing their conversation?) 'I like to come down to Paddy's for a chat, you know, but J*** kissed me the other night, and my boyfriend's friends all hang out here, and I don't need that getting back to him, and...' 'I know, I had to cut down my Sundays here a lot.'"]

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Manhattan/Murray Hill