by Chuck Jutte on Exclusive and gorgeous, the Top of the Standard (formerly known as the Boom Boom Room) is a favorite haunt of the well-connected and the beautiful. The crowd is always friendly despite any preconceived notions of pedigree and the ambiance is one of the best in the city. As most reviewers have noted, the view is worth the (very) expensive price of the drinks. The decor is art deco with bartenders kitted out in old-school white uniforms. Quite dapper. They're knowledgeable and friendly and they make a mean drink. It's definitely not a place to grab a beer on tap but it is a place to try out different French champagnes. And ladies, the male patrons are just as beautiful as the view. It's also one of the only places in the city where men outnumber women. As most New Yorkers know, single women outnumber single men most everywhere in the city. Why the lack of one star? Because the woman with the clipboard at the entrance checking off names and memberships needs a course in basic etiquette. I'm sure she is intelligent enough to realize that any patron of the venue is connected to the management in some way to be on the list or to get a membership. There is no need to snap at newcomers "I don't need your ID," in a snotty tone as she did to a co-worker of mine who had never been there before when really, she should be checking IDs to make sure they match the names on the list else anyone can just drop a name to enter. However, the management is lovely. They couldn't be nicer people and once you're past the door nonsense, you're guaranteed a good time.
by Carrol Gadsen on This is a great spot to end your night - DJ, dancing, and no cover! Consistent things you can expect: * DJ with a mirror tilted above him/her, making him/her look that much better * Asian guy getting hyphy in the corner on the benches next to the dance floor * Cash only bar * Rock band Sunday nights * Vertigo (the Hitchcock video filmed in SF) playing on the wall Great place to go at the end of your night when you've had enough to drink that you don't care how crowded it is.
by Felicia D. on The next time I am trying to get to work and the line of obese sheep patiently waiting for their Whiz-drenched gristle reaches the point where the sheep are BLOCKING the three-way intersection of Passyunk, 9th, and Wharton streets, I am going to stand up on my pedals and MOW through you disgusting slobs with both elbows stabbing at all that pasty flesh and scatter you like pigeons. Was that English enough for you, Joey Vento and all your cop fetish followers? I was having a nightmare, and tried to scream, but my mouth was full of flab.
