the skinny on The Skinny

I have never felt so uncomfortable stepping into a bar as I did Friday night, walking through the doors of The Skinny in the lower east side. The lower east side- what a different place. I dunno if I can ever go back.

The Skinny
The minute my friends and I stepped foot in The Skinny I knew we had to leave immediately. Surrounded by an array of high school stereotypes, ranging from jocks to goths, there were just too many hormones flying around everywhere to see the comical situation in which we found ourselves. Not only did my friends and I feel like the oldest people there, but we felt like we were party crashing. These twelve year olds didn't need us to be there cramping their style. So we go further in, looking for some people we were suppose to meet up with, all the while I was secretly hoping they wouldn't be there because I wasn't sure the bar contained enough alcohol to diffuse the tremendous levels of discomfort we all shared. Walking past the sixteen year old, standing on a platform, dancing provocatively was enough for me to call it a night. Gyrating awkwardly, she reminded me of scenes from American Beauty, Girls Gone Wild, and various episodes of Maury. I felt dirty being there. The place was also extremely cramped, and the music aided in the strange high school feel permeating out of every crevice of the "bar." Also, the bar kind of looked like a parlor that would be in one of those really old, huge victorian homes that you see in Westchester County and can only imagine what kind of off the wall, illegal things happen in there.
Luckily, the people we were to meet up with were not there, but because they even suggested this place I began judging them harshly, and the next place we were supposed to meet may have been slightly worse. I don't even remember what it was called. It was across the street from Crash Mansion and the line was filled with dude-bros and girls stumbling all over the place. Again, not my cup of tea. Funnily enough we didn't make it into there either, but I assure you it would've been worse.
Due to the excruciating cold, we gave up on meeting them and went to this bar with a Spanish name that was pretty empty, but was playing loud, awesome music. Settling there, my friends and I had a great time dancing to music and being loud and obnoxious... well not too obnoxious. So the night wasn't a complete bust, but getting home at 2 on a Friday night? Eh, we could've done better haha

I wish I could remember the names of those other places, they just weren't as traumatizing as The Skinny. I promise it won't happen again.


I'm out.