Holiday Cocktail Lounge

As I walked up to this legendary East Village dive, I saw what I thought was an elderly homeless man rooting through the garbage can out front. Then the guy followed me inside the bar and I realized that he was the bartender! It gets better. So the old guy gets behind the counter and onerously slings me a Heineken bottle for $3.50. (They’ve only got bottles, no draft. $3.50 Heinekens and Amstels, and $2.50 Bud, Bud Light, Miller, and MGD.)

I was waiting for Judas, so I was the only person besides the bartender. This dude has to be pushing 90 mighty fine years old with greased back white hair. Inside I was praying to god that the old man didn’t drop dead on me. He could barely lean over to get behind the curved bar. He was playing this ridiculously frantic bluegrass banjo music, but maybe that was too much excitement for him, because he suddenly turned it down and cranked up the evening news, which was showing on a snowy TV set. It was a story about yet another college shooting rampage. Then then old man inexplicably points at the screen and goes “kill, kill, kill.” Uh, yeah.

Multiple times the door opened and people walked in only to turn and walk out when confronted by it’s repellent divey-ness. And they didn’t even see the bathroom, which looks like something that belongs on a pirate ship - wooden walls and rusty metal all around. My advice is to hold it.

Judas showed up a few minutes later and ordered a Heineken dark. 10 minutes later the old man got off his stool and served it to him. Not exactly speedy service with a smile!

This place is the dive bar of all dive bars.

Address: 75 Saint Marks Place, Manhattan

Phone: (212) 777-9637

Happy Hour: The time at which, following your seemingly interminably wait, that the barkeep actually serves you a cocktail. And you should make sure the cocktail is a beer and not a cocktail since the house brand of Tequila is El Gavilan, which I believe to be what Pat Riley and Paul Wolfowitz use to get that just greased look with their hair.

Cuento Cuesto: A brewski will set you back a mere $3.50 or $3.00. Not sure about liquor but it ain’t recommended.

Huckle Factor: There was a chick who made a brief cameo Friday night and she was definitely better than the average heroin junkie or mid-50s East Village burnout that tends to do their imbibing at The HCL. Unfortunately, she left after standing near the bar for 10 minutes and not getting so much as a glance from the barkeep. So, while it doesn’t present the array of options that the watering holes on frat boy row in the Upper East Side or bars like Lit in the EV do there could be options. Call it a 1 out of 5.

Split Lip Factor: Since Junkies are usually too spaced out to trade fists and nobody gets served fast enough to get drunkenly aggro, fights are pretty unlikely to break out at HCL. Unless, that i, the El Gavilan gets busted open. Should that happen and look the fuck out below! 2 out of 5

Who Would Like It: Punks, junkies, hillbillies, anyone down on their luck in this fine city, or, hell, maybe nobody cause there was no one inside.

If Holiday Cocktail Lounge were a celebrity: Billy Bob Thornton