Gone are the days when the Wythe, where many a dickless “man” has booked a room, was the sole game in town. The imminent, ahem, erection of the generically monikered Williamsburg Hotel on N. 10 Street and Wythe Avenue signals not only the advent of a bigger, douchier “boutique” hotel, but also a bar that’s situated within the building’s water tower–a.k.a. the drinking gimmick to end all drinking gimmicks.
A “man’s” drink is liable to cost twice as much as a result of being consumed in a water tower
When you go to a bar in Williamsburg in general and on Wythe Avenue specifically, you are declaring that you’re probably missing a dick. And so, to ascend into a water tower in order to drink what will presumably a minimum of sixty dollars’ worth of cocktails in order to prove that you do, in fact, have a dick merely serves to exhibit the opposite.
Perhaps when you’re a “man” trying to pull out all the stops for the mistress you’re trying to finagle, booking a room at The Wythe seems like the height of sophistication–a grand way to impress someone who hasn’t been around the Williamsburg block. And maybe, if your woman of choice is anything like you, she would be impressed by the custom made furniture and wallpaper or the lack of room service or the “locally sourced” mini bar.
That don’t impress her much
But if you’re trying to impress a woman who knows a “man” with a dick from one without, you’re going to have to do much better. The Wythe is for commoners aspiring to be nouveau riche, peppered with the occasional celebrity in an attempt to make it seems like it bears even a remote resemblance to the Chateau Marmont. If you really want to make a statement that says, “I care,” opt for the Ty Warner Penthouse at the Four Seasons.