Sometimes when you live in New York City you meet up with a friend and say "There must be a good bar around here somewhere right?" and you wander and then you come to a frost-glass windowed establishment with a small sign with someone's name on it and you think, "Ah, this must be a bar" and half the time you walk into an apartment building.
Well, not with Heathers! Heathers is a real bar. Not someone's apartment building. Even though it's got the frost-glass and small sign and stuff. It's on 13th St between avenues A and B. What else does it have going for it? Well let's head to the bar. There's the $5 beer, the fact that there are gluten free beer options for all you glutenous nerds out there, and what's that there? Ah, they serve absinthe. Lovely.
Now let's check out the scene. Hipster, hipster, suit, hipster, co-existing peacefully, and...wait. What's that in the back? It's staring straight at me, baring deep into my soul. It's a bear. But it's not looking at me with it's eyes it's staring at me with its..........vagina. I want to look away but I can't. It's so big and so in my face that I will just sit here on my retro bar stool and stare at a bear's vagina until my friend tells me it's time to go.
So if you like small out of the way dive bars where hipsters and young professionals co-exist and a bear's vagina will put you in a trance then welcome home. You sicko.