There’s nothing like a good game of classic bubble hockey.
Sadly, setting one up in the office is generally frowned upon (especially when it takes the place of your desk).
Good news: we just found one downtown. And someone built an entire watering hole around it.
Behold: JM Curley, your new 95-seat after-work lair for old-school bubble hockey, fresh-baked cookies and pastrami hash in Downtown Crossing, soft-opening this Friday.
Fade in: the clock reads 4:59pm. You’re sitting at your desk. Your thirst: ferocious. The clock strikes 5pm. Boom—you’re out, and looking to meet some fellow downtown lords of labor wherever there are 40 styles of draft, bottle and canned beer and a restored classic bubble hockey table (it’s Whalers vs. Bruins, by the way).
That’s when you’ll come here to devour plates of the Porterhouse Pork Chop and Applesauce and Louisiana-style coleslaw (it’s like regular slaw, only jazzier) at the poured-concrete bar. Or if it happens to be Sunday, you’ll stop in for the Death Row Burger featuring a nine-ounce patty, pulled pork and bacon (the holy triumvirate of heart-stoppers).
And if you’re looking to escape to somewhere a bit more private with a Manhattan (and, say, a bubble hockey enthusiast/intern), take a stroll back to Bogie’s Place, the cozy, purple-couched lounge in the back.
Note: no Casablanca quoting, please.
Sadly, setting one up in the office is generally frowned upon (especially when it takes the place of your desk).
Good news: we just found one downtown. And someone built an entire watering hole around it.
Behold: JM Curley, your new 95-seat after-work lair for old-school bubble hockey, fresh-baked cookies and pastrami hash in Downtown Crossing, soft-opening this Friday.
Fade in: the clock reads 4:59pm. You’re sitting at your desk. Your thirst: ferocious. The clock strikes 5pm. Boom—you’re out, and looking to meet some fellow downtown lords of labor wherever there are 40 styles of draft, bottle and canned beer and a restored classic bubble hockey table (it’s Whalers vs. Bruins, by the way).
That’s when you’ll come here to devour plates of the Porterhouse Pork Chop and Applesauce and Louisiana-style coleslaw (it’s like regular slaw, only jazzier) at the poured-concrete bar. Or if it happens to be Sunday, you’ll stop in for the Death Row Burger featuring a nine-ounce patty, pulled pork and bacon (the holy triumvirate of heart-stoppers).
And if you’re looking to escape to somewhere a bit more private with a Manhattan (and, say, a bubble hockey enthusiast/intern), take a stroll back to Bogie’s Place, the cozy, purple-couched lounge in the back.
Note: no Casablanca quoting, please.
