Firefly

54 Spring St.
New York, NY 10012
212-966-8716

Bathroom situation - two in the middle of the damn joint, right next to where they punch in orders on those big busy-restaurant touchscreens (do they use these at like Aquavit too? Visceralist would NOT know). The men's has a stall and two urinals but it looked like the women's was single-person. Comments section, is that accurate?
Takes credit cards? - yes, but watch your damn bill lest they ring up some extra Amstels on the low-low and hope you don't notice. Really, Firefly? Is the recession that bad? Ain't that a bitch.
Crowded on weekends? - for realsies...this is maybe the only sports bar in SoHo and you know who actually hangs out in SoHo...so you know what it is. [ed. the hell does this mean?]
Seating - the typical bar-stool setup in front, but their backroom has seats like a muthafucka. It's actually set up like a regular ol' bullshit thai restaurant, but they have...whoops, lemme save that for later...
Neighborhood - cowboyin' the SoHo-Little Italy border, but still easily accesible by the 6 train, so go nuts.
Type of crowd - apparently, the type of cunts who either don't notice or don't care about the waiters adding a few so-and-so's to the bill at the end of the evening.
Pretentious/assholes - Visceralist feels that this category should be expanded to potentially include the wait-staff if need-be, but the Irish-accented host at this place was actually fairly reasonable, so we won't let a few bad apples...
Cost of Stella - according to my waitress, like $6...but who knows, really. That bill was denser than Cambodian algebra.
What time people start showing up - depends on what conference is playing...but like 8.
Bartender efficiency - given that it's likely you'll be in the back, which is wait-service, expect restaurant-type wait-service. Which is to say, you'll get impatient. Bring a flask.
Official Website - here. They describe themselves as a "Soho nightspot" and the site automatically plays house music. BUT. It does provide very solid directions. Also, its "Links" section (for what?) solely consists of the bar across the street's website.
Food? How late - full bar-food style menu with a surprisingly solid salad menu. Presumably goes all night. But, again, check to make sure your bill consists of stuff that you actually ordered.
TVs? What's on - OK, so this is actually one of the better sports-bars in the sub-Houston area. They feature a gang of huge-screens showing whatever the fuck they want. Like, they really have cable. That they pay for. Legally. And word is that they take requests. So you (sorta) get what you pay for. So chillax, brah.
Guy:girl ratio - this place isn't really feng shui enough to engender intermingling...BUT, if you happen to meet someone while waiting to use the restroom, there's maybe a 30% chance it'll be someone of the other gender (if you're a dude).
Toys - Los televisores. I televisi. Les televisiones. Plus romance.
Age of clientele - mid to upper-mid 20s. And yes, 24-year-olds...you're officially mid-20s. Life's over. Suck it up.
Space for dancing? - word around citysearch is that the backroom becomes a juke-joint later on at night, but Visceralist has yet to see any evidence of this. Leave the zoot suits and poodle-skirts at home till further notice.
Décor - leaning towards television-centric. Book-learners need not...
Grimeyness - for some reason this place is actually going for an upscale SoHo sports-bar trifecta that can never really work in practice. But still, du-rags get frowned upon.
ID check procedure - n/a. Plus, it's close to NYU. Too bad NYU's only varsity sport is triflin'.
Music medium, style & volume - the sound of MVP James doin' work isn't technically music, but it will ring out 'round these parts.
Specials or most popular drink - their website says their "happy hour is Mon-Fri"...which is so pathetic that Visceralist will leave it at that.
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