The Milling Room — A Girl's Guide to Drinking Alone

446 Columbus Ave btw 81st and 82nd Sts, Upper West Side

The Place: A “tavern-inspired” restaurant and bar that kind of feels like it should be in the suburbs and not Manhattan.

The Time: Thursday December 1, 5:15pm. I was on the Upper West Side (my old high school stomping grounds) and decided to stop in somewhere for a drink before my long train ride back to Brooklyn. The Milling Room is one of the closest places to the C train so I determine that it’s good enough.

The Vibe: This place is so big. Maybe I’ve just become numb to the shoebox sizes of most New York City bars, but I think that I might’ve fallen through a rabbit hole to Westchester. I enter a literal foyer, with a grand staircase ahead leading up to what I assume is the rest of the restaurant, but the bar is on the left so that’s where I go. It looks pretty full, surprising for 5pm on a weekday. There’s a large group of older ladies drinking martinis, a couple on the corner and a guy with a laptop. Along with the long marble bar, there’s a smattering of high top tables. I make the bold move of taking the spot between the couple and the laptop guy, mainly because the women are occupying the bulk of the bar but I also purposely want to have my back to the large TV in the corner. (Why? Why is there a TV here?) There are “tavern-inspired” details like wood-paneled walls, big white brick arches, an enormous chalkboard, some requisite holiday decorations. The music is also adding to the small-town vibe – it’s like soft rock from the early aughts, the kind of stuff that plays on 106.7 Lite FM. But I quickly change my mind when Maggie Rogers comes on (my #1 played artist this year, according to my Spotify wrapped), followed by Florence and the Machine (my #2 played artist). Uh oh. Am I just a small-town girl living in a lonely world?

The Bartender: A very nice person who calls me “love” a lot, but they’re wearing cool earrings so I guess it’s okay.

The Drank: The prices definitely make it seem like I’m in suburbia because their happy hour cocktails are EIGHT DOLLARS! Where can you find a decent cocktail for $8 in New York City anymore!? Out of the four options, I choose the Negroni Blush, made of gin, Lillet Blanc, Dolin Blanc and Cocchi Rosa. So just gin and three different fortified wines, nothing really bitter in there whatsoever, which is kind of the point of a Negroni, IMO. It arrives quickly so maybe it’s on tap, also an explanation for why it’s not that cold. It’s a little too sweet but certainly drinkable. I get some brussels sprouts as a snack (they’re fried, alright? I’m not a saint) and soon I hear myself order a second Negroni Blush. Probably because it’s $8.

Was I Hit On?: Oh, basically the opposite. The couple next to me are pretty clearly on a date; not a first date but they’re not dating, you know? Anyway, they’re obviously pissed that I chose to sit next to them, which becomes ever more apparent when the martini women head upstairs for their dinner reservation, leaving the rest of the bar empty, with just the four of us at the corner. They talk for a bit, then their voices lower until they’re essentially whispering. The woman in the duo keeps glancing over at me, as if she’s trying to will me to move to the other end of the bar. It’s a little weird now that the bar’s emptied out, I’ll give her that, but I’m not gonna pick up my drink and sprouts and sit somewhere else just because you feel awkward, ma’am. Pretty soon, she mouths to her date, “should we move?” And they MOVE TO A HIGH TOP TABLE, probably thinking that the poor lady alone has nothing better to do than listen in on their intimate conversation. They’re absolutely right, so good on them, but still. Rude.

Should You Drink Here Alone?: The jury’s out, y’all. I will say that everyone else who sat at the bar while I was there was a regular, receiving a warm greeting by the staff and settling in with their usual. So if you live on the Upper West Side, sure, yeah, why not. The Milling Room isn’t anything special but you could do worse. And that’s probably the most suburban thing about it.