“Ever wonder why a barfly sits so still? Both the question and the answer came to me at once one night last week. It’s the fear of falling over. I was sitting on a tall stool at the long bar in the narrow room. Not unlike the millions of other quiet Atlases that have done and will strike the same hunched-over pose, I was weighed down by the weight of the world. Events had knocked me off course. Nothing a stiff drink couldn’t solve, I thought, ordering one off the lengthy menu at the William Barnacle Tavern, the singular institution at 80 St. Marks Place between First and Second avenues. But the stool was high and the legs were slender and my guts were still so much in turmoil, I didn’t want to tempt fate by moving around too much. So I sat like a gargoyle and watched other people in the mirror. There was a lot to see and more to think about. ...”
2011 October: Saint Mark's Place, 2015 November: St. Mark’s Place: It’s Party Time in the East Village!, 2016 November: St. Marks Is Dead: The Many Lives of America's Hippest Street
