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Porky's NYC: You’ve seen the movie, so you should already know what you’re getting into here—the place ain’t named Citizen Kane, after all. And don’t let the Chelsea address fool you either, because this suburban, frat-boy oasis seems like it was airlifted right out of your local strip mall back home. You'll find decor is requisitely tacky, unless you love toilet seats, cowhide upholstery and the aluminum-sided DJ “trailer,” pumping out the mix of classic rock and hot hip-hop hits you’d expect. There are a few other features that won't surprise you, either: scantily-clad waitresses, popped collars and drinks swerved in fishbowls. Even the rules posted at the door claim Porky's sucks, and if they were located anywhere else, you’d be tempted to agree. Seriously, Porky’s is the sort of place you made fun of (or just outright hated) when you were stuck in the suburbs. But here in the big, bad, hipper-than-thou city, there' s something oddly comforting about beer funnels. You can be an adult again tomorrow. |
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