Word: barstool
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...thirtieth birthday, but her voice evokes the world-weariness of a woman beyond her years. Speaking to reporters over the phone from New York, Reid didn’t volunteer her exact location, but one couldn’t help but imagine her perched on a barstool, throwing back shots of whiskey and lamenting life’s betrayals. It’s sexy, in an intimidating way—perhaps the very feature that has attracted a worldwide fan base for the American Pie star. Some say her acting chops aren’t up to snuff, but critics...
...tasteful interior, created by Yale-educated Taiwan architect and proprietor Leslie Chen, is an eye-pleasing mix of sharp lines and warm velvet. Chen herself is a fixture most afternoons and evenings: you'll find her perched on the same barstool and invariably tapping away at a laptop, perhaps creating a new menu, or organizing another poetry jam, cheap Belgian-beer night, free movie screening in the basement cinema or appearances by guest speakers in the fields of design, interiors, graphics and publishing...
...tasteful interior, created by Yale-educated Taiwan architect and proprietor Leslie Chen, is an eye-pleasing mix of sharp lines and warm velvet. Chen herself is a fixture most afternoons and evenings: you'll find her perched on the same barstool and invariably tapping away at a laptop, perhaps creating a new menu, or organizing another poetry jam, cheap Belgian-beer night, free movie screening in the basement cinema or appearances by guest speakers in the fields of design, interiors, graphics and publishing...
...ever touched it. He said it wasn't his." Nor was he angling for a better life. "He never talked about any dreams or big plans," says Tupek. "He was just a homebody. I took him to a bar one night after work, and he just froze on his barstool. He didn't like...
Half an hour later, I’m slouching by myself on a barstool at Cambridge Common, baseball cap pulled low and tucked under the dark hood of my sweatshirt. Amy, the cheerful bartender, asks for my ID and I hand over my California license, which bears a picture of me as a beatific, long-haired sixteen year-old girl. Amy looks back at me with an arched eyebrow and, remembering Starecheski’s advice, I bark, “Brooklyn Lager.” A sufficiently manly pint...