So, I was kicked out of the bar last night at 74 State Street.
I haven’t been kicked out of a bar since ’06 when I got in a fist fight with some huge weirdo jacked up on jolt and cuervo who was gay bashing my B-FAM (brother from another mother). Â So we fought. And we both got kicked out. Â I was worried we were then gonna have to take it to the streets, which would have ended in my death bc the guy was absolutely gigantic. Â But somehow we went our separate ways and I took a cab back to my place and watched Real Housewives Atlanta while I calmed down.
Anyway, I’m gonna throw down with 74 State Street Hotel for a second.
To read the review
1. Â The bartender Katy was awesome (despite that absolutely atrocious work uniform they make her wear). Â And she looks like Busy Phillips and she’s a masseuse. Â Not a bad combination.
2. Â The hotel front desk people. Â they are pretty cool, too. Â My friend Jeremy (after the Kelly Clarkson concert, and a few Red Solo Cups filled with grey goo’ and San Pellegrino Limonata), walked into the lobby and used the bellhop cart as a skateboard. Â Which was NOT cool. Â I totally told him that right after we high fived.
3. Â The food at the bar was delicious and had a great presentation.
1. Â The bar. Â Put up some window treatments. Â Yes, downtown State Street looks cool, but the horrible street lights cast unflattering lighting into your depressing bar. Â Go to SmithandNoble.com and buy yourself some smart solar shades. Â Or… go to NYC and get some large indoor trees for near the window. Â Â And… remove the christmas tree in your front window. Â It’s January 18th.
2. Â Cheer the fuck up. Â You’re a bar. Â You serve booze. Â Let’s have a Â little party, for chrissakes. Â There was depressing elevator music. Â All the staff is dressed in black. Â The one girl with the choppy short hair looked like she was going directly after work to audition for the part of Wednesday Adams in some East German community theater. Â And someone needs to teach her how to smile.
3. Â Making the bartenders measure out each pour of Scotch is so rookie. Â If you’re training a bartender, that’s cool, but not as a bar practice. Â You’re supposed to be a fancy hotel. Â Don’t act all fancy and then look cheap by making the bartenders measure the pours. Â I hate that. Â What you really should be doing is letting the bartenders pour the scotch directly into my mouth until I say when.
4. Â When the kitchen closes at 11:00, that means you can order food up to 11:00. Â That’s just how it works. Â If it’s 10:45 and you say the kitchen closes at 11:00, then we have 15 minutes to order food. Â If you don’t want people ordering food after 10:45, then tell customers the kitchen closes at 10:45. Â ALL of us in the restaurant business have to deal with that annoying technicality. Â You know how many nachos I’ve had to make at the stroke of midnight because someone walked in one minute before the kitchen closes? Â LOTS. Â you know many people I served AFTER the kitchen technically closed because I want to make them happy? Â LOTS.
5. Â Let the customers play that fucking piano. Â there’s a beautiful piano sitting in the corner. Â What a tease. Â Or at least close it down so it’s not so inviting.
Here’s the story. Â Jeremy went up to the piano and played 5 notes. Â He doesn’t know how to play the piano, so he touched about 5 keys and then came back to the bar. Â Then some cranky little bitchy girl with a pony tail said to Jeremy, “Sir, the piano is not for customers. Â Its for our jazz musicians. Â If you play it we’re going to have to ask you to leave.” Â To which I replied, “you can’t be serious.” Â To which she replied, “yes, I am.”. And then she went on and on telling us that if we break it then we have to pay for it and it’s like really expensive. Â And all I kept thinking was, “please stop talking. Â He’s not gonna break your little fucking piano. Â And if he does, I’ll buy you a new one and have Elton John himself come play there once a week. Â So shut up.”
So fastforward 20 minutes and Jeremy went back to the piano and played it again. Â So fast forward 90 more seconds and the little girl with the choppy hair tattletales on us and up comes some very mean lady manager who says, “Gentleman, you have to leave. Â We asked you not to play the piano, and you did. Â You are cut off. Â Finish your drinks and leave.” Â Standing behind her was Les Miserable with the pony tail who had her arms crossed and was looking at us like, “I told you so.”
So I say to her, “You told on us??? Â What are you, 9 years old?”
So I chugged my perfectly measured scotch and we left.
Just a note, 74 State Street, if you’d like to see a hotel bar/restaurant that does it right, go to DP’s An American Brasserie. Â That place is lively, fun and they’re so good at what they do, they don’t have to measure out their pours.