Level V

If you decide to go to Level V, be prepared to deal with a ridiculous door policy. If you make it past the grouchy doorman, you’ll head downstairs below the Italian eatery, Vento. Next you’ll enter a dungeon-like space with stone walls and caves for private parties and bottle service. But you won’t find any gruff prisoners among the abundance of revelers who are proud to have made it downstairs. The only problem is, the guests look more like bridge and tunnel folks than exclusive New Yorkers. Towards the back, a D.J. spins old school music by a small dance floor – he could use a lesson or two about what’s current and what New Yorkers actually like to dance to. We’re surrounded by good music with worldly influence, so “Vanilla Ice” and “Poison” are hardly exciting to us. Also beware: your cell won’t work, so your friends who are probably stuck with the grouchy doorman won’t be able to call you to let you know they can’t get in.
We had a surprise birthday party for my girlfriend on Saturday here – I have the right connections to get a party of 50 people through the door. But, after a couple of hours of reminiscing with my pals, we were ready to head out. This place used to be fun, but now I’m over it – I’ll let other people deal with the wait at the door while I go some place better.

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