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The laid back crowd at Cubbyhole
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posted by Becca Love on April 4, 2008
 
 
When you’re playing wing woman for a co-worker, the night can take strange turns.
 
It all started when a new friend at work, “N”, confessed to a crush on a bouncer at Henrietta Hudson’s at 438 Hudson Street. N and I teamed up with flamboyantly straight femme “R” and dirty talking gay boy “S” for some early beers at Henrietta’s to come up with a game plan. The quiet crowd and super friendly bartender made it easy to fine tune our mission in between singing along to Blondie. Seating was limited but we were content to remain in huddle formation in the corner.
 
The 4-7pm happy hour went down smoothly and by the time N’s object of affection walked in we were starting to feel the liquid courage. Once we got the timid N outside and next to her would-be gal pal, however, the effect of the beer was lost and N could do no more than squeak and hail a cab to The Cubbyhole at 281 West 12th Street (@ 4th Street).
 
Once inside The Cubbyhole, we snagged some prized seats at the bar and ordered some of their strong, cheap well drinks. As per usual, the crowd was a curious mix of business suit men, ladies in Carrharts, and folks dressed like American apparel ads. As N’s eyes began expelling the familiar tears of unrequited lust, our bar mates were quick to offer words of commiseration and Kleenex. S kindly escorted the lovelorn N outside for a cab and R and I were left to finish our basket of free popcorn.
 
Now without the N hook-up mission, R and I were unsure what was next. Home? Food? More drinks? A few friendly smiles at the two pretty ladies to our right and we had our answer: a party at The Stonewall Inn at 53 Christopher St.
 
By the time we left The Cubbyhole, R and I had both downed several beers and too much whiskey and were ready for action. Thus, we marched our way over to Stonewall, only to be snubbed by our new pals from The Cubbyhole, along with everyone else in the bar except for one straight boy from the south who was in NYC for a church trip. The fancy appetizers on the bar were much nicer than your typical bar fare so I found myself drunkenly wandering from dance floor to olive platter for sustenance and comfort.
 
All was not lost at Stonewall, however, as R was able to sign up for the Fierce and Fabulous contest to vie for the title of the hottest lesbian in NYC. Remember when I said R was my flamboyantly straight femme friend? (check-out http://www.flickr.com/photos/snapshotnyc/2361725320/  for more info on the contest)
 
At the end of the night, our tally consisted of cheap beer and friendly bartenders at Henrietta Hudsons, one broken heart, some free popcorn at The Cubbyhole, cold shoulders but plenty of dancing room at Stonewall, and one straight girl in a lesbian beauty contest. All in all? I say we came out ahead.

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