Bond Street Lounge: Where, oh where, can a sexy yet classy assistant fashion buyer go to find her hedge fund prince? Bond St., of course. This once it-spot is still consistently packed with a good portion of the city’s 20,000 young Wall Street vice presidents feasting on sushi too pretty to eat and top-shelf sake. No signage other than a brown-hued Japanese flag will announce that you’re there, but once you’ve stepped down below street level to the clean, minimalist lounge, you’ll know you’ve hit the right place. There are three options: sushi bar, bar bar, or one of the modular tables surrounded by low, uncomfortable banquettes and leather ottomans. Play it right, ladies, and you’ll have one of those VPs buying dry saketinis (best in town) for you in no time.
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