A Girl's Guide to Drinking Alone is a website, where I drink alone at bars, then review them for how awesome or awful they are for women to go to alone. Based in NYC.
The Place: A teeny, cutesy cocktail bar that’s the stuff Instagram dreams are made on.
The Time: Wednesday December 6, 6:45pm. Finding myself with a free night, I bought a ticket to see Pride and Prejudice at the Cherry Lane Theater, then consulted my list of where to drink in the West Village, and found a bar I hadn’t been to yet. Sometimes it’s as simple as that, folks.
The Vibe: It is SO small in here. I feel like there must be a back room but there’s not. Yet there’s still a host, a smiley blonde guy in a grey sweater who points me toward the bar, one foot away from the door. Everything is adorable and delicate. Like I’m in a doll house, or your rich grandma’s foyer after she’s insisted on afternoon tea. I sit at the end of the curved marble bar, nestled next to pink pumpkins and pink roses. The bar stools are robin’s egg blue and the couches are millennial pink. Everything is crystal if it’s not pink. Seriously, the cheater bottles and garnish containers on the bar are crystal. Even my check is served in a little crystal glass accompanied by a mini package of mini gummy bears. I am simultaneously charmed and repulsed by all this cuteness and it’s a weird feeling.
The Bartender: One guy in a denim shirt who also plays the role of barback. So it’s just him and Mr. Grey Sweater running this miniscule establishment.
The Drank: I was deciding between The Morning After and Too Good For You (lol), but I choose The Morning After, a cocktail with jasmine-infused bourbon, aperol, lemon and cinnamon. It’s yummy; citrusy yet still boozy. It is also pink. I get brussels sprouts too (not pink, thank god). I would’ve gotten the truffle fries because truffle fries are maybe my favorite thing ever but you guys. These are $18!! WHAT. I can’t.
Was I Hit On? Ha. No. The patrons mostly consist of women in pairs, which doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen, but it’s way less likely. Even if there was anyone here who would try to hit on me, I think I’d girlishly giggle, jingle the keys to my Barbie car and say "it only seats one, sorry Ken."
Should You Drink Here Alone? Um, yeah. You can. My cocktail was good, the sprouts were yummy, things were perfectly pink and pleasant. If you live for your Instagram likes, you will have a field day, but tbh, it feels like While We Were Young exists just for the social media snap.