New York City Bartenders & Patrons - nycbp.com

The Village Idiot

Idiot's Delight

Sadly, the Village Idiot shut its beer taps off and locked the door in July 2004. We are going to keep this page on the site as a tribute to one of the greatest dive bars in the whole world. In the meantime, many of the staff moved to work at The Patriot and Yogi's. All of the information below was written prior to 2004. Writer Eddie Goldman wrote a tribute story and an account of its last night.

When owner Tommy McNeill needs new help at the Village Idiot, he sometimes puts out a sign that advertises, SHAMELESS SLUTS WANTED: NO EXPERIENCE NECESSARY.

Just like Hef developed the bunny costume and Hooter's patented the orange shorts and white T-shirts; Tommy has a dress code. Less is more, dressed like Daisy Duke is preferred, and if you dress conservatively, you don't work there for long.

Give Tommy credit for spawning an industry in New York. He was first. Tommy is the grandfather of Coyote Ugly, Hog 'n' Heifers, Red Rock West, Doc Holliday's and more.

If your dream man/woman slugs So Co & Seven or Pabst, here's where you enter the gates of your Elysian Fields at the Village Idiot. Perched dangerously close to the meatpacking district, this former pharmacy-turned-saloon was put on the map for one purpose: to get you blind stinking drunk. As the rest of the neighborhood get dragged kicking and screaming into gentrification, The Idiot fights back by promoting white trash values -- not overpriced $7 glasses of Stella Artois like across the street at Markt.

This is the place to take your 15 officemates for that cheap ass birthday/going-away/happy hour party. Someone will end up going home with that co-worker from Accounts. That can of Pabst is $1.75 and served by a scantily clad barmaid, who looks like the type of girl your mother warned you about. Don't ask for blender drinks; stick to beer, whiskey and scotch.

Other absolute necessities for this style of saloon involve the alcohol selection and the music: the beer (preferably Pabst Blue Ribbon) should come in cans. No cocktails, blender drinks, or heaven forbid a martini. The music was key and the entire jukebox choices are trucker music. Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Allman Brothers, Charlie Daniels and David Allan Coe for sure.

The bartenders here are almost all under 25 and have that just-moved-to-the-city quality. They drink along with you, flirt, and dance. They are hard workers, and in the heat of a crowded weekend night, they keep the party going. The turnover is high, so if you fall in love with one bartender, she may be gone a week later.

The Idiot has all the charm of an Illinois truck stop, which is why we love it. The décor is late 1980s Wal-Mart. Don't go to watch sports, they don't have cable TV.

Tommy also owns Yogi's on the Upper West Side, and the staff works at both bars.

Any comments or questions about this information direct them here.

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