Day 228—Wednesday, August 25th, 2010
The Frying Pan
First off, Happy birthday to 365 commentator and occasional guest star, Jason Hwang! Have a great birthday, Jason, even though you have to work overtime on your special day. Cheers!
One of the places I’ve been meaning to go to this summer is a bar on a boat called The Frying Pan. And no I’m not going to make the obvious “dive bar” joke here that’s used in every review...oh shit, I just did. Anyway, this lightship which is docked at the Chelsea Piers was built in 1929 and from what I’ve read it sunk to the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay, then got salvaged and now it sits at Pier 66. A floating bar, perfect for a three hour tour. Let’s go before the weather starts getting rough.
Here we are at Chelsea Piers, I think I see it off to the right.
Let's walk the plank to the bar on the boat!
And there's the boat itself. This is going to be great!
Wait a second...what does that sign say? "Bar below?" The bar's not on the boat? Motherfucker, what a gyp. Gilligan!
The bar's on the pier and I was thinking it would be a tiki bar or something, but it's this. Kind of a plain Jane bar. And when I asked the bartender if I could take a picture of him serving me a beer, he just grunted and said, "have her do it," while pointing at another female bartender who didn't look too thrilled to be there. I decided to pass.
Most of the patrons here tend to stand and sit in big groups behind the bar.
They stand in rings like this and from what I could overhear talk about their jobs and occasionally text other like-minded people while talking about their jobs.
What's crazy is that there's tons of tables and space off to the side and in the front, but everybody crams into one space at the back like they've been sheep-herded there.
There's all these tables open and space up front...
But everyone chooses to stand in a crowd in the back talking about bullshit. For some reason this bugged the shit out of me. I didn't see one person enter this place alone. People arrive in packs and talk loudly about their bullshit jobs. Attention everyone: Unless you work in a brewery or a pharmaceutical company that can send me a steady supply of Percodan, you're working a fucknuts job like I do and no one cares to hear about it. Break away from the pack and sit at a fucking table in the front and spread things out a little bit. Sheesh!
Portrait of a frustrated and disappointed bar-crawler. I decided to take a few shots of the Manhattan skyline and call it a night.
The view is spectacular from here, but no one at the bar seems to notice or care, they'd rather stand in a circle, talk loudly, text and perform a social circle jerk of sorts.
Another shot as I sit at my table far from the pack.
And one final shot as I drink my third and final beer and get the fuck out of this place. Birthday boy Jason Hwang told me the vibes were weird in here and I decided to come anyway. Okay Jason, you told me so, I'll listen next time! Happy birthday!
And so what I hoped would be an epic end of summer night, turned out to be an epic fail. Oh well, you can't win them all, hopefully I'll have better luck tonight.
Review
Okay, so the bar’s not in the actual ship, it’s on the pier and it’s kind of nondescript. There’s an abundance of tables and the view from many of them is fantastic on a clear night. Unfortunately most of the people that come here prefer to assemble in the back behind the bar in big groups and talk about work and text people on their texting thing-a-be-bobs. It’s a little sad and quite unnerving. The cliental is mainly young, upwardly mobile people who gather like sheep behind the bar, talking loudly about their jobs and texting on their texting thing-a-be-bobs. The bartenders are busy and not too friendly, but having to serve this crowd, I don’t blame them.
There’s a full bar here with about a half dozen bottled beers and a few drafts. There’s also food to be had including: a Grilled 8 Oz. Sirloin Burger, Sliced Skirt Steak, Jamaican Jerk Rubbed Half Chicken, and a "Clam Bake" On The Hudsonwhich offers littleneck clams, jumbo shrimp, mussels, corn on the cob and steamed red potatoes.
If you like to text while drinking in a group of 20 people herded in the back of a bar while wearing Gap clothing, this is the place for you. Enjoy!
The Frying Pan
Pier 66 (@26th St. and the West Side Highway)
212-362-4453
Update: Continuing on the Ginger/Mary Ann theme, Jaws just sent in this fantasy graphic he worked up today. Nice shirt, Jaws!
