Braving Mason Dixon: The Painfully Self-Aware Mechanical-Bull Bar

First rule: Know your clientele.
First rule: Know your clientele.haha Photo: Daniel Maurer

We’ve already seen the interior of Mason Dixon, but this weekend we braved the dreaded Lower Eastpacking District™ to see the latest mechanical-bull spot in full swing. (Don’t ever suggest that Grub Street is not willing to make sacrifices for you, dear reader.) No line down the block as with the Shamlians’ other bar, Fat Baby, but we definitely got our fill of blonde highlights (girls), cropped haircuts (guys), and designer-knockoff bags. Plus a steady stream of woo-hoos and yee-haws, thanks to those $10 bull rides. We personally enjoyed the totally wasted guy who didn’t seem to realize he was impersonating the Freedom Rock commercials and who certainly wasn’t aware of this place’s problem with the neighbors when he yelled, “Turn it up, man! Make it louder, man!” Yeah, man!

Chef Andrew Robertson was lurking by the bar — latest word is no food till Friday night. In the meantime, as you can see by this photo of the men’s-room door, the place is at least being honest about itself.

Earlier: Yonkers Chef Presents City’s ‘First Authentic Southern Restaurant,’ Second Mechanical Bull

Braving Mason Dixon: The Painfully Self-Aware Mechanical-Bull Bar