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Wow, I guess I *do* have limits. For those who saw me on the verge of passing out last week, let's just say that I've learned an important lesson: "one hour of open bar" is one of the most dangerous phrases in the English language. Throw in "with the coworkers" and "empty stomach," and, well, you have the makings of a good PSA.
Since I want to be semi-respectable again this week, I'm taking PN to a slightly classier establishment. Honey is a relatively new charmer of a lounge on the border between the West Village and Chelsea that I stumbled upon a few weeks ago. A good selection of wines, lots of specialty cocktails, and--the kicker--a moderately priced food menu. And ladies should note the Wednesday special: complimentary champagne after 9 pm. (Curse this penis of mine. If it weren't so unmanageably large, I'd be tempted to pull a Buffalo Bill.)
See you there!
-Mike and the Triumvirate