The mere mention of going uptown usually gives the Bar Belles a nose bleed.
(Have you ever had a nose bleed while drinking? Not pretty. Not pretty at all.)
But after all the hoopla over Bill’s arrival in Harlem, we were feeling left out. We wanted our time with Bill, to raise our glasses in honor of his new post-presidential digs and maybe even get him to play us a sax solo. So, tissues in hand, we hopped the train to the tippity-top of Manhattan.
In Harlem, we found a wealth of good-time bars with friendly people, inexpensive drinks, and all-vinyl interiors – just the kind of place the famously sociable Bill would hang out.
Unfortunately, our first stop, the Abbey Pub (237 W. 105th St, 212-222-8713), was a bust.
Don’t get us wrong: it’s not a bad bar. In fact, if you’re an Ivy League junior and into cheap, greasy eats and frosty brew, it’s a second home.
Despite the Abbey being totally up his alley (beer, co-eds, et al.), Bill was nowhere to be found. We realized we’d have to go further north – all the way to 125th Street, in fact – to find our real hunting grounds.
The menu at Bayou (308 Lenox Ave., btwn 125th & 126th Sts., 212-426-3800) was so tempting we decided to line our stomachs while satisfying our jones for some Creole cooking. Plus, it’s right around the corner from Bill’s new office! He’d even eaten bacon and grits there the week before!
Two sour apple martinis and a peach cosmopolitan (and a gumbo starter and a seared scallop main) later, no Bill.
We heard the jazz was hot – and the drinks were cheap and cold – at St. Nick’s Pub (773 St. Nicholas Ave., 212-283-9728). So we ducked in to make sure there wasn’t a certain guest saxophonist on stage jamming with local favorites, the Sugarhill Jazz Quartet. Darn it all if they don’t only jam on Thursdays.
So we took it back down towards Bill Central. The Seville Lounge (2130 7th Ave., no phone) is only a tad larger than our kitchens – but much more amusingly decorated.
Even though it was someone’s birthday on the night we visited and there were blue and white balloons hung over the bar and free nibbles and cake for all, the Seville gave the impression that it was party-time there, 24-7.
It’s a fabulous, faded, run-down palace of a place, with blue velvet wallpaper, flaking gilt and white paint, dust-covered fake flowers, and – a classy touch – French Provincial-style barstools. We sat upon two of the said stools, ordered a round of beers and waited for Bill to walk through the door.
While we waited, we checked out the crowd. At the end of the bar, there was a tall-ish dude in a white suit and a wide-brimmed fedora. Was it Bill!? No. But we liked his style, so we asked the grandmotherly barkeep to steer a drink his way.
We were feeling so welcomed at that point, we thought, what the hell, and told the rest of the bar the drinks were on us. All ten drinks added up to a little less than $25. (Bring cash: they don’t take credit cards. But, then, what would you expect from a place that doesn’t have a phone?)
We left the bar reluctantly – but with many new friends. We homed in on Lenox Lounge (288 Malcolm X Blvd., 212-427-0253), the closest bar yet to Bill’s new office.
The Lenox is often in movies, which makes total sense since it’s Art Deco interior recalls Old Harlem’s heyday, when Billie Holliday played in the Zebra Room in the back. There’s a beautiful checker-tiled floor, amazing vertical fin-blade lights, a long wooden bar, and broad mirrors which reflected the faces of well-worn regulars, jazz fans (there’s still live music in the Zebra Room), and some fellow Harlem rookies.
But no Bill.
Too bad. He would have liked the mix of classic Motown and modern R&B on jukebox – and the cute bartendress.
In his absence, we toasted to Bill’s good taste in choosing Harlem for his new home-away-from-home. That went well, so we toasted him again.
Then, one of us had the bright idea of toasting each year of his presidency.
Hours later, we stumbled out into the Harlem dawn just as a preacher began an early service on the steps of a nearby church.
A spiritual ending to such a spirited night seemed somehow fitting.
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You might have better luck than us Bill-hunting at these other Harlem bars:
* Bonita’s: 527 Malcolm X Blvd., 212-283-8205.
* Doral Lounge: Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Blvd. & 145th St., 212-283-8318
* Londel’s: 2620 Frederick Douglass Blvd., 212-234-6114
* P. J.’s: 2246 Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Blvd., 212-283-5812