Although I live nearby, I had not been inside Don Hill’s in a while until I stopped in for a quick hello last week. I have known Don since I moved into the neighborhood six years ago, and he has been a great neighbor and friend, even allowing my daughter and her band to play in his club when she was only twelve years old (I know, cool). He knows that we put up with the noise and the crowds of his club, so he is always willing to open his ropes to us.
Since they received an infusion of capital by new investors (of Beatrice Hall fame) in August 2010 business and clientele have both improved and they have had some good talent headlining. The only problem for me is that I’m usually in bed by the time the good acts go on.
Florence and the Machine, and
all played this year, but I was already under the covers, ready for beddy.
I had heard about the giant curse words spray painted around the place and a couple of other minor changes that the new owners made — very minor, actually, for a nineteen year old club that has seen better days (though it was never glamourous by a long stretch). What I wasn’t expecting when I walked in was…
Pole Dancers on the bar.
Don’t get too excited. They are not that young or that attractive. I thought it was worth mentioning though. It’s not every day that you get pole dancers as neighbors. Me, on the other hand? I lived near New York Dolls for years down in Tribeca and now I have pole dancers as neighbors in Western Soho.
Perhaps an over-50 career path is calling out to me?