“Do you know there’s a bar inside the hotdog place on St. Marks?” inquired my friend one drunken summer evening. “That’s ridiculous!” I replied, but she insisted she’d seen it on a Phish fan-site (as if that made it credible) so we went to investigate. Amazingly, we packed into a phone booth inside Grif Dogs. I picked up the phone and hesitantly said, “Hello?” Suddenly the side of the wall OPENED. I turned to my friends and did a silent Munch ‘The Scream’ face, before twirling around and coolly telling the waitress, “Three please”. We’re regulars now.