Address: 620 Decatur St.

What the hell is a "bistro bar" anyway? Coming from a crew of Baton Rouge imports who couldn't resist the urge to bring their unique brand of cheese to NOLA, this schizophrenic joint can't figure out what it is (restaurant? club? bar?) and in turn, the crowd can't figure out how not to be awful. Mutant frat boys who seem to spawn and multiply hourly make asses of themselves attempting to groove to incompetent DJs trying to mix Top 40, hip-hop, and bounce, all while thinking they're balling because they have a martini glass and a garnished plate of second-rate seafood in front of them. Need more proof? Flat screen TVs at the urinals. Enough said.