Old New York Love Story
Old New York Love Story I like the vibe in this place The bartender, my mother-in-law if she were a bartender, dresses for the crowd in a shiny black bustier and tight black polyester capris long copper-dyed hair pulled back into a poofy ponytail she flirts like Pollock attacking a canvas, seemingly random until the end of the night when she counts her tips her artistic genius revealed. She's an undegreed psychiatrist dispensing advice and self-medication ethical enough to ensure no one overdoses, savvy enough to ensure their return. She sings along to Shakira hips shimmying to 50 Cent, her…