Mister Paradise — A Girl's Guide to Drinking Alone

105 1st Ave btw 6th and 7th Sts, East Village

The Place: A fun cocktail bar with an equally fun staff.

The Time: Thursday December 8, 8pm. I had to pick up a specialty liqueur from my favorite place on earth, Astor Wine and Spirits, and figured I’d head over to the East Village after for a cocktail that I didn’t make myself. So I hit up 1st Ave and see Mister Paradise. It looks cool and not insanely crowded so I’ll give it a shot.

The Vibe: First I’m greeted by the bouncer, Christian. He looks at my ID then asks if I’m related to Ron Katz. When I say no, he looks disappointed. He says Ron Katz books fights out in Long Island, including some of his own fights. Christian and I have a great chat even though I am not related to Ron and am not well versed in the fighting arena. Then he informs me that he has to confiscate my bottle of booze, but he promises no one will take it. I tell him if anyone wants to guzzle white creme de cacao out of the bottle, by all means. Once I’m inside, I scope out the bar but there aren’t any seats available. The server, Jordan, sets me up at the rail and says she’ll keep an eye out. This place is definitely cool. It seems slightly art-deco inspired, with white ball lamps, rounded chairs and banquettes, and an aqua-tiled back bar. They’ve got some holiday decorations up, like garlands and Christmas lights. It’s busy but not overwhelming; elegant but not intimidating. The crowd is mostly mid-late 20s, groups of friends and dates. Soon Jordan ushers me over to the bar stool she’s secured for me right next to the server station and I just feel really taken care of here.

The Bartender: There are two and they’re killing it. CJ is the one in front of me, and since I’m at the end of the bar, I spend a lot of time listening to, and ultimately chatting with, the staff. Keon (I’m probably not spelling his name right, apologies!) is the other server on tonight. All employees wear like, old-school mechanics’ jackets with name tags that are not, in fact, their names. Jordan’s says “Archer,” Keon’s says “Daytona” and CJ’s just says “J.” He jokes that they just forgot the C, then he offers me a gummy worm on a cocktail pick. I’m a happy camper.

The Drank: Since my mission is to have a delicious cocktail, I’m certainly in luck. With Jordan’s help, I decide on the Goldmask: bourbon, reposado tequila, montenegro, passionfruit, egg white, a few other things. It’s great: fruity, slightly earthy, complex but also easy to drink. Their other cocktails also look delicious and super interesting. I’d get another one but I’m pretty hungry and pizza is calling my name. We’re in a hip Manhattan cocktail bar so the prices aren’t cheap and let’s face it, I’m the kind of gal who will spend $18 on a cocktail then go get a dollar slice. Priorities, right?

Was I Hit On?: No. Honestly, I couldn’t give a flying fuck about the people in here. (Except for the guy who orders a seltzer with lime juice, then when his date arrives and asks what he’s drinking, he says “oh just a weird elixir they mixed up for me.” That dude deserves to get trapped in an elevator or something.) I have a deep love for bars who look after ladies drinking alone like this. Everyone who works here is so nice and friendly, and I never feel ignored or forgotten. Also if someone were to bother me, I have a hunch they’d be on my side in that fight. Christian certainly would be and he’s a professional!

Should You Drink Here Alone?: Yes! Listen, Mister Paradise is still a trendy cocktail bar in the middle of the East Village. I’m sure it gets crowded and crazy, so I’d advise going on the earlier side, if jockeying for a bar stool isn’t your favorite activity. But I had a great time, met some genuinely delightful people and had a tasty cocktail. What else could I ask for? (P.S. I got my bottle of cacao back, don’t worry.)