Friday, February 11, 2011

The Woods

48 S. 4th St. (btw Kent & Wythe Aves)
Brooklyn, NY 11211
(718) 782-4955

Bathroom situation
- 4 single-person utility closets secluded just around the corner the middle of the bar. Usually a line, but it usually moves faster than that line when you're running late and the thought of that McDonald's steak & egg bagel is hitting all the right buttons. Fuck!
Takes credit cards? - yes, if you don't mind your card being lost so hard that it's primary concern becomes "Why the fuck is there a polar bear on this island!?"
Crowded on weekends? - yeah, and this is why The Woods catches so much flackjackets. Fridays & Saturdays are a fucking ancient Mesopotamian market place on Black Friday, but still. So there's that. Ok. So we know this. Um. How bout there are other days in the week tho? God.
Seating - stools at the bar and booths against the wall, but this place has never really been about that. If you really can't stomach standing up the entire time you spend here, thinking up reasons not to talk to that cute chick/dude over there, then you deserve all the grumpies that come in the box you just bought.
Neighborhood - yeah, so this place abutts the East River like it's trying to make rent, but still. It ain't thaaaat far from the Bedford L. Still, no cabs 'round here, so make sure you didn't come to that party here with those "sort of" friends who might leave your desperate ass.
Pretentious/assholes - if you're at a spot on a damn Saturday night and there isn't anyone there who sounds like a walking/talking Hipster Runoff...then you ain't anywhere.
Cost of Stella - unfortunately, Visceralist was too aggy to really get into this last time we were here, but it's prolly like $5-6. [ed. that's technically not libelous because he's an idiot]
What time people start showing up - "Called up the homeys and I'm asking y'all / Which court, are y'all playin basketball?" - O'shea Jackson c' 1996.
Bartender efficiency - the interior of this place is more spacious than those UFOs that helped build the pyramids (both Egyptian and Mayan), so the bartenders (usually 2 at a time) are facing significant challenges every night, but they still keep shit moving like a lactose-intolerant Packers fan's lower intestine after 2/6/11.
Official Website - they ain't got can check Google to double-check Visceralist cuz you don't trust us, but please double back when you realize that we're right. We love being right.
Food? How late - you can get some tacos out back when it's nice and warm. None of that was a euphemism.
TVs? What's on - unless TV is some new kind of STD that only the cool kids are getting....
Guy:girl ratio - if you're worried about this, you're most likely reading this from a place where it won't matter cuz you won't go to The Woods and you'll never know The stay the fuck out of The Woods (shouts out to Treach & Co.)
Toys - presumably, if they were ever to hold a wedding reception here, they could do that thing where the awkward lanky dude dances ironically to "Come On Eileen" and then everyone else could make fun of how happy he seems. But that's a big if.
Age of clientele - well, the guy's are old enough to where they're used to saying " is that a 'no'?"
Space for dancing? - oh yes they did do it.
Music medium, style & volume - you've heard of Muse, right?
Specials or most popular drink - you can upgrade the traditional $5 beer+shot to top-shelf for an additional dollar. Eh?

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