Bar Love

Last week I went on the first of the smattering of dates that were set up during the brief time I was on an online dating site. (You may have read the account? Or perhaps not, it wasn't a very riveting entry so I wouldn't hold it against you if this is the first you've heard of it.) We spent the evening at Destination, a bar in the East Village and I fell in love. With the bar. Jeez, come on you guys. I am way too jaded and bitter to become infatuated anymore.

The back corner has a smattering of bookshelves replete with aged books on poetry, and picture frames with people's families in them. The wallpaper in the bathrooms (I used both throughout the course of the night. Yeah, I know, classy broad) were postcards from people all throughout the world. With messages written to their parents, their friends, it was a lovely homey-meets-cultured vibe. And the buffalo wings weren't half bad either.
Destination Bar, 211 Avenue A, info@destinationbarnyc.com