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Abe & Arthur's |
On a recent Tuesday night, the bar at Abe & Arthur’s was manic
with cougars on the prowl and graying lotharios. We fought our way to
the hostess stand, where a lithe trio would decide our seating fate.
Would we be relegated upstairs to Siberia—far from the action on the
second-floor balcony? Or escorted downstairs to the most deafening
dining room in New York?