Too Many Monkeys

THE THREE MONKEYS
236 W. 54th Street (between Broadway and 8th Avenue)
New York, NY 10019

Okay, bear with me. The Three Monkeys isn't exactly an Irish pub. But it is the sister bar of The Mean Fiddler (266 W. 47th Street), which is owned by a paddy. Before the monkeys took over, this spot used to be Divine Bar–a fantastic after-work wine bar with a great tapas-like menu. When Divine Bar closed, it was definitely a bummer. But THE THREE MONKEYS? The name alone had me interested.

Sure, there are Guinness and Harp signs out front. And even if it's not an Irish brand, I have a special place in my heart for the Delirium Tremens chalkboard proped up outside this joint. Long story short, my great-great grandfather Patrick Dolan died after he fell into a vat of beer in the brewery where he worked. His death certificate listed the cause of death as "delirium tremens," which, if you don't know, is severe alcohol withdrawl that more or less makes your insides go crazy until you're dead. Here's a more medical definition.

A college friend of mine had her birthday party here a couple Saturday nights ago. The place itself is a really nice, clean bar. Not gritty like its big sis, though definitely not sterile. But something happened around 11pm. It was like the neon lights came out of nowhere and created a dancefloor that all of Murray Hill, Long Island and Jersey knew about. The place almost instantly filled with douchebags, while Ke$ha and some of her best friends joined together for an all-out assault on the speakers. What was happening? I wanted to blame the neighborhood–
Midtown West/Times Square obviously isn't the "coolest" hood, and it certainly doesn't help that Monkey's next door neighbor is a loud Latin dance club. But I just can't get behind this one.

Shame. Monkeys are fun. Usually.