< topography - Roosevelt Island


Julie's Sports Bar
Roosevelt Island
{ Cassandra 6/18/01: Roosevelt Island is a weird place. Sort of like a suburb in between boroughs. The bar was about fifteen degrees hotter and more humid than outside although both doors were open. The rectangular tin remnants of a catered dinner were piled in the corner. The bar was populated by mostly older people and the only white guy looked like a short, fat version of Al Gore. Sparsely peopled and friendly. I was served my beer with a napkin stuffed in the top, for sanitary reasons, I presume. Watched a game of pool played by some slick guy named Mr. D who talked a lot of shit with an unlikely spectator who was missing a few teeth, drinking a Heineken and wearing a "Jesus died for us" t-shirt. Strange, but ultimately comforting mix of people.} [Ah, Julie's, sought-after gem of ol'Roosevelt, which for reasons obscure even to me, I've always loved, especially when making my way up LI City, under the Queensboro, perhaps to Socrates Sculpture Park, but definitely across that little orange bridge, a loop around the island, home via the tram (don't forget your tokens!), urban treat for a drunk, a child. Time after time I looked for The One Bar On Roosevelt Island, convinced of its existence, and either I was too 4-0ed to notice, or it opened only recently. But it's right there on Main, right there, an uncanny oasis to insure that your cabled descent into The Hatt will be blurry and wonderful.]

on to Uppity East Side or on to LIC

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"Manhattan"/Roosevelt Island