The 25 Douchiest Bars in NYC Right Now

Almost a year and half ago, we faithfully documented the douchiest drinking establishments in Gotham. While we'd like to report that shining a light on these sub-par drinking dens forced their offending patrons to return to the suburbs of New Jersey where they came from, that's not the case.

The douche goes on in our fair metropolis, and we've even discovered that some of our old favorite bars have been usurped by unsavory characters in every denomination of bro, yuppy, and frat boy imaginable. Some bars from the original list have remained, while others were pushed out by even-douchier newcomers.

Here's to drinking better, New York: The 25 Douchiest Bars in NYC Right Now.

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Neighborhood: Chelsea
Address: 122 West 26th St.
Website: ainsworthnyc.com
Type of douche: Yuppies trying to not to act like yuppies, and failing

Sporty and classy are pretty far apart on the descriptive spectrum. Why then, Ainsworth, would you try to combine the two to create this sad, sad establishment: the upscale sports bar? The convergence of chandeliers and plasma screens draws a crowd of young professionals who have convinced themselves their days of douchebaggery are behind them. They're wrong. It's still there, lurking underneath the ill-fitting suits, just like the Ainsworth's sports bar heart is somewhere underneath all of that fancy exposed wood. Stop fronting.

Neighborhood: Williamsburg
Address: 48 S 4th St. (between Wythe Ave & Kent Ave), Brooklyn
Website: yelp.com
Type of douche: Drugged up, creepy douches

The Woods is a disgusting, gaping hole where you can smell the terrible coke oozing out of people's pores as soon as you walk in. During the week this spot is perfectly fine, but on the weekends, this is a destination for all the frat bros who are already blacked out drunk and their female counterparts in sparkly tops who are looking to explore this "edgy" Brooklyn they've heard so much about. Add in a smattering of NYU students new to the city who can't stop sniffing or clenching their jaws (now you know why the bathroom lines are so long) and a crowd that is boorish, wasted, and trying to rub up on you, and you've got the formula for failure. Enter with awareness of what you're getting yourself into.

Neighborhood: Greenwich Village
Address: 149 Bleecker St.
Website: wickedwillys.com
Type of douche: Perma-frat douches

Wicked Willy's is a frat boy's wet dream; each room of the bar is devoted to a different douche-specific desire. In the main room there's a bar where you can get Miller Light for a dollar, and where two types of entertainment are simultaneously available: karaoke courtesy of tipsy, tone-deaf women and on better (or worse?) nights, a stripper pole for aspiring exotic dancers. If you tire of watching boozed-up, uncoordinated women acquire bruises, you can always head to the beer pong table in the back room. Did we mention that this is all occurs under a ceiling heavily draped in pirate decorations? We can't explain.

Neighborhood: Greenpoint
Address: 597 Manhattan Ave. (between Driggs Ave & Nassau Ave), Brooklyn
Website: yelp.com
Type of douche: The sweaty, bike-riding hipster that lives in Greenpoint because it's not Williamsburg and he's too bougie for Bushwick

Need a break from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan? Tired of hopping out of the way for bikes on Bedford? No Name Bar is hidden in plain sight right in Greenpoint, but it's chock full o' douchebags. Like, literally full of 'em. Besides the fact that there are really great noodles downstairs, the bar is right on Manhattan Avenue and it gets so crowded you inevitably end up with someone's drink on you, someone's sweat, or both. Despite clearly being a bar, and not a club, you're forced to wait 20 minutes for a drink. Sure, it has a beautiful backyard with plenty of tables ideal for smoking American Spirits, but after that eighth Tecate and lime, walking up and down a flight of stairs to get your own drink, you'll be ready to leave. No Name isn't terrible every night of the week, so long as you don't mind sneers from the "I don't live in Manhattan because, duh, and I want to ride my bike, but god no, I would never live in Williamsburg but I'm too good for Bushwick" crowd. If you do, we suggest walking a block to Matchless and feasting on some chicken wings.

Neighborhood: Midtown East
Address: 541 Lexington Ave.
Website: gerberbars.com
Type of douche: Young money douches

When overpriced cocktails are a draw instead of a deterrent, it's not a good sign. Such is the case at Whiskey Blue, where the after-work, Cavalli-suited crowd sips $20 martinis by the bar like they were born to do nothing else. Equally grating are the women who are turned on by this kind of thing, presumably because they have Stepford Wife-style dreams of one day doing the same. If they could only master that cold, disinterested stare. Tell us why they don't perform lobotomies at Bellevue any more?

Neighborhood: Upper East Side
Address: 1616 2nd Ave.
Website: dorrians.com
Type of douche: Yuppy, entitled douches

Dorrian's has a long history of douchebaggery, so long in fact, that some call it an institution. But really, people have to stop using that term so loosely. The regulars at Dorrian's are primarily made up of two species: yuppies and the women who love them. Something about Dorrian's seems to awaken the sleeping beast in men who can't dance worth shit, which results in the saddest sight drunken eyes can ever see: grown men doing the robot to the latest Black Eyed Peas song.

Neighborhood: Astoria
Address: 35-33 36th St., Astoria
Website: studiosquarenyc.com
Type of douche: The aggro Mets fan douche

Despite their fine qualities, beer gardens are one of the world's most powerful magnets for douches, drawing them from far and wide with the promise of comically enormous beers and the opportunity to wear a tanktop at the bar. While Queens' historic Bohemian Beer certainly calls out like a siren to the bros of the five boroughs, Studio Square has added some modern touches to the biergarten formula: massive screens blaring the baseball game, and events with celebrity chefs like David Burke that make bros feel even more at home, and thus act even more bro'd out than usual. Watching these clowns work the picnic tables on a sticky summer Saturday is like watching speed-dating in the Bronx Zoo. It's a testament to how starved we are for outdoor space in NYC that we'll happily suffer this buffoonery just so we can drink beer in the sun, across the way from a dude in a TapouT chugging a liter of Dos Equis.

Neighborhood: West Village/Meatpacking District
Address: 400 West 14th St.
Website: gaslightnyc.com
Type of douche: The testosterone-fueled douche

The Gaslight skirts the edge of the Meatpacking District, and the bro overflow is savage. The Gaslight's quaint mix of antique store/coffee shop decor caters to a West Village crowd, but is confusingly incongruent with the bodies imbibing there, offending characters that include B&T types and dudes who consider Usher "real hip-hop." Even if Usher is your thing and you're in the mood to be a "dirty, dirty dancer," your occupied elbow room impedes the busting of any real moves. Combine that with potent $16 cocktails and men who wear their heterosexuality like outdated tribal ink, and you have a heady mix of douche-fueled aggression. Cue the "accidental" shoving.

Neighborhood: Williamsburg
Address: 600 Metropolitan Ave., Brooklyn
Website: alligatorloungebrooklyn.com
Type of douche: Drunk hipsters too cheap to buy their own food

The prospect of free pizza with any drink you order at a bar is an incredible one—in theory. Putting said bar next to the subway in the most highly-populated, tourist- and youth-driven neighborhood in Brooklyn is another prospect entirely. The only people present at Alligator Lounge are inevitably the brokest, douchiest folks in an area already swamped with those types. Throw in a couple pool tables, a karaoke room, and Skee-ball, and you also have every bro within a ten-mile radius at this bar. Maybe someday, a wood-fired pizza and a beer will be offered at a venue that's not full of tipsy sorority girls and broke Williamsburg wanna-be's. We'll be patiently waiting.

Neighborhood: Midtown East
Address: 800 2nd Ave.
Website: mcfaddens42.com
Type of douche: Unabashed bros

Irish men the world over cringe at the sheer number of bros who lie in wait behind the doors of this McBar. Bros of every kind can be found here: bros "courting" girls that have taken full advantage of the "ladies drink free" Jägerbomb special, bros chest bumping with little-to-no irony, bros unabashedly singing Bon Jovi lyrics to each another, and especially bros coining new permutations of the word "bro" just for fun (they work at Wells Fargbro, for example).

Neighborhood: NoHo
Address: 288 Elizabeth St. (between Prince St & Houston St)
Website: yelp.com
Type of douche: The media douche who thinks he works in tech, the tech douche who thinks he works in media

When your bar is profiled for attracting people of a certain profession, and it isn't specifically geographically connected to that profession in some way, you know you've got something special (i.e. terrible) on your hands. When your bar is profiled with the headline "Where Everyone Knows Your Twitter Handle," just shut the thing down. Who knows why the nerds picked this place to go? Because the thing is, Tom & Jerry's isn't a bad bar, by any means. It's a great place to drink when it's not too crowded. The bar kibble is pretty decent, and it comes by the scoopful. The drinks aren't overpriced. But, dear lord, unless you work in media or start-ups, stay away from the after-work crowd here. It's an ever-insufferable mix of editors, the writers they're trying to poach, the aspirant young things trying to become those writers, and the start-up people whose asses those editors are kissing so they can leave the media hustle once and for all and finally attempt to make some serious scratch so they will (hopefully) never have to drink at Tom & Jerry's again. Thing is, none of them ever do. Also, they filmed a scene from Girls here, so you can do yourself a double-favor by skipping this place and avoiding that whole weird subset of fetish tourists, too.

Neighborhood: Midtown West
Address: 25 West 51st St.
Website: johnnyutahs.com:
Type of douche: The shameless douche

Johnny Utah's is a place where yuppies go to make bad decisions, bad decisions outside the realm of "I think I'll wear another striped shirt today." The bar provides the fuel to make such mistakes: $3 dollar beer cans, $4 SoCo Lime Shots, and $6 mixed drinks. Once alive with cheap booze, young ("It's my first job; I get to wear my dad's suit now!") professionals crowd around a fenced-in mechanical bull, hoping to catch a glimpse of a sorority-girl-turned-socialite who is intoxicated enough to think that bra-only bull riding is best. We're not saying you don't want to see such a thing, but we are saying you don't want to drink with other men who do, to a washed-up top-40 soundtrack, guzzling bottom shelf liquor with guys in off-the-rack suits. We hope we're assuming correctly.

Neighborhood: Flatiron
Address: 55 W 21 St.
Website: bounceny.com
Type of douche: Coors-drinking, B&T bros, and the models who love them

Walking by Bounce's non-descript side is not unlike walking by Abercrombie and Fitch—except rather than getting an immediate waft of Axe Body Spray, you get Axe Body Spray with top notes of beer-induced barf. It's common to see girls crying outside, bros throwing literal dollar bills (Sacajawea coins?) at bouncers to get inside, and best of all, the party starts at around noon on any given weekend. Take everything that was cool about Lavo's club brunch, add daddy's money, and flip it on its head. Bounce, indeed.

Neighborhood: East Village
Address: 219 2nd Ave.
Website: professorthoms.com
Type of douche: Red Sox douches

Sometimes a bar hits you over the head with its douchiness. Professor Thom's isn't one of those places. The UMass hordes that congregate here seem congenial enough at first. But then you slowly put the perpetual Sam Adams specials and the dude ice grilling your Yankees hat together. You're in a Boston bar, and these people you formerly considered your new drinking buddies are actually Sox fans! Abort mission—we repeat, abort mission!

Neighborhood: Koreatown
Address: 315 5th Ave.
Website: 8stkitchen.com
Type of douche: Korean finance bros

While the majority of Koreatown bars have either been revamped or replaced as the neighborhood has evolved over the last decade, Third Floor remains stuck in a '90s time warp. Which is to say, this dimly lit third-floor (duh) lounge/bar is where buttoned-up dudes pumped full of soju-bomb courage struggle-flirt with younger NYU Stern/F.I.T./Parsons chicks on the precipice of bad decisions, all in a race to see who can get shit-faced the fastest before the inevitable slog to Circle. The "bro" translates in any language, bro.

Neighborhood: Murray Hill
Address: 181 Lexington Ave
Website: brotherjimmys.com:
Type of douche: A heady mix of finance bros and bridge and tunnel imports

Every one of Brother Jimmy's locations is a drunken shitshow. There's really no other way to put it. And when your motto is, "Put some south in yo' mouth," and you serve fishbowls full of who-the-hell-knows-what, we don't feel bad saying so. But it's not even encouraging binge drinking that makes your bar douchey, it's the type of person who frequents your Midtown location, who chooses to slurp on swamp water to unwind after work at some finance gig while waiting for the train to Hoboken, and then gets belligerent and tries to kick it to girls. While holding a fishbowl with BBQ sauce on his tie because he didn't even do the tuck-in-trick. Oh, for shame.

Neighborhood: East Village
Address: 149 2nd Ave.
Website: nycbestbars.com
Type of douche: The frattiest frat boys in all of NYC

This frat-centric basement bar is damp with shame and sticky with discarded Natty Light. It's also stuffed with bridge-and-tunnel folk who all derive comfort from the vintage photos of the NYC skyline plastering the walls. They are slamming their glasses together, toasting to having escaped the suburbs of Jersey and Long Island, even if only for a few hours. After one too many games of Beirut (that's what classy frat boys call beer pong), the photos will also serve as a reminder of their locale when their internal GPS draws a blank. The 12th step is the mark of an alcoholic who has overcome addiction. The 13th step is for frat boys who wear alcoholism like a Boy Scout badge, utterly resigned to their douchey lot in life. Or, who after one too many games of beer pong, can no longer count.

Neighborhood: Union Square
Address: Prospect 120 E 15th St.
Website: sidebarny.com
Type of douche: The "IT'S GAME DAY" douche

Ah, college. What is it the kids say—a time to make memories you can't remember with friends you won't forget? Well the guy you've been trying so hard to forget from your alma mater hangs out at Sidebar. It's the alumni bar for the Florida Gators, among other teams, and while it's gussied up to look like a decent lounge, it's really just another dive with plastic cups, inattentive waitresses and bartenders, and the kid whose football scholarship was revoked for possession.

Neighborhood: Murray Hill
Address: 411 3rd Ave.
Website: toniceast.com
Type of douche: Tail-chasing 22-year-olds who look like their moms dressed them

Tonic is the type of place you go where you'll encounter three floors of guys wearing khakis, dancing to Mims' "This Is Why I'm Hot," and totally feeling themselves. These are the type of dudes who are ordinarily harmless, but after a few gin and tonics, clearly don't know how to handle their damn selves. And by that, we mean kicking game that even sorority chicks aren't with, overusing the word "epic," and high-fiving with no regard for what's decent.

Neighborhood: Meatpacking District
Address: 55 Little West 12th St.
Website: brassmonkeynyc.com
Type of douche: The "I'm on the list" douche (who's not on the list)

Meatpacking rejects, the guys who are were denied entrance into one of the area's more upscale clubs like Le Bain or 1Oak, end up at Brass Monkey, which explains the high concentration of douche. Take a bruised-ego bro who still has some unfinished creepin' to do and put him in a bar with dozens of others just like him. Have them compete over a limited number of women. What do you get? A perfect storm of douche that results in dozens of bar fights. Dozens.

Neighborhood: Chelsea (Hudson River)
Address: Pier 66 Maritime, W. 26th St.
Website: fryingpan.com
Type of douche: J. Crew Liquor Store regulars, Girls in their late 20s who wear pearls regularly and unironically, The Dorrian's pre-gaming crowd

You know that bro who ruins every good new restaurant in town because he read about it on Thrillist the morning it opened? This is truly his favorite bar. And why wouldn't it be? The Frying Pan is handily one of New York City's most fun drinking destinations every May. Home to the only truly beautiful way to view Jersey (from afar, separated by water, lit by sunset), it is a boat you can drink on, with decent food, and not-unfairly priced buckets of beer. Yet, this is where men come to role-play their Kennedy dreams, their ironic fantasies of being boat owners, a place they can wear their Nantucket Reds in the city and not be duly shamed, because they are surrounded by like-minded douche, who will all—without fail—at some point over the course of a drink at The Frying Pan manage to mangle the words to a song that mangles rap ("I'm On A Boat"). The penis-straw yielding bachelorette party nearby will find it amusing, and they will eventually mingle, clogging the already narrow through-ways by which one must move through the place. They will yell at each other in the bathroom about "tagging that blonde chick" as though everyone were speaking at their volume (they aren't). They will, in effect, make you want to punch them in the face, but alas, you are outnumbered, and don't wish to rewarded with a Grade-A Fratboy Gaggle beatdown. And if that standard—a place where those exhibiting behaviors deserving of facepunchings still manage to outnumber those who should deliver it to them—isn't the hallmark of a great bar ruined by abject douchery, we don't know what is.

Neighborhood: Midtown East
Address: 987 2nd Ave.
Website: turtlebaynyc.com
Type of douche: The "married but still creeping" douche

Walking into this joint is akin to committing character suicide. Why? Because you're gonna get douchey being in a room so dense with douchiness. The only reasonable excuse for taking this risk? The high likelihood of getting laid, which is stacked in your favor thanks to a staggering number of over-served women who place little stock in self-respect and, by the looks of the pace of their Jack Daniel's consumption, have chosen Ke$ha as their role model. Unfortunately, there is also a corresponding number of fresh-off-the-clock businessmen desperately working that, "I'm going to kick it to you even though you're visibly intoxicated and I'm married" angle. Welcome to a lose-lose situation.

Neighborhood: Williamsburg
Address: 484 Union Ave., Brooklyn
Website: union-pool.com
Type of douche: The "houlier than thou" hipster douche

Oh, Union Pool, standby that you are, petri dish of many a strand of The Herp for too many Williamsburgians to count. Union Pool, which provides all the worst elements of a hipster bar while offering the same kind of drunken, dirty hedonism reminiscent of fratboy rape dens. This former pool store is a moist sweatbox of an alpha-male meat market. Close your eyes, and feel your Chuck Taylors connect with the ungodly essence of this sticky-floor party spot, an unholy abomination. The signs near the bathrooms make it plain that only one person is allowed per stall due to an excess of "debauchery" (read: keybumps and not-unrequited summer camp lust). There's even a bathroom attendant posted up to enforce this. You may think that bars shouldn't be like schools, where hall monitors enforce certain behavior among the youths, but this is what Union Pool has become: a microcosm of a school where that would happen. Though previously a legitimately cool spot where you might see the Rapture perform unannounced, it's now a poor simulacrum of what once was. Look no further than the pulsing heart of the bar: a taco truck—yes, a truck—permanently caged inside the yard's walls like a hipster culture mausoleum. It's a faint assurance of the eventual decline of this culture, or perhaps this civilization. Decent tacos, though, all things considered.

Neighborhood: Murray Hill
Address: 513 3rd Ave.
Website: joshuatreebar.com
Type of douche: The just-turned-21 douche

Oh Joshua Tree, you lost us at hello. Walking in, we're met with skull-intrusive '80s music, the definition of starting off on the wrong foot. Mere paces later we are shoulder to shoulder with barely-legal boys who'd very much like to call themselves men, if only the pesky number on their IDs didn't say otherwise. The air is thick with Davidoff Cool Water and the pheromones of a hundred sweaty, frat boys and girls looking to get laid, some maybe for the first time. There may be some people out there who enjoy drinking $7 beers out of red Solo cups in close quarters with recent college graduates and throngs of women drunkenly wailing, "I WANT TO DANCE WITH SOMEBODYYYYY," in unison, and those people are douchebags. Enter at the risk of being considered one.

Neighborhood: Flatiron
Address: 230 5th Ave.
Website: 230-fifth.com
Type of douche: Tourist douches in cargo shorts

This is a bar for tourists who want a simulation of the "Sex and the City" experience and think they get that by paying out the ass for alcohol. The view is admittedly pretty spectacular, but the overpriced, awful drinks don't compensate for the people who frequent this place. If it's raining and you still want to hang out on the roof, 230 5th is kind enough to give you a ratty bathrobe that is damp and still reeks of the over-cologned lurker who was donning this wet, cheap jacket before you. Enjoy!