Bar Shots: Murray Hill

Mercury Bar

Not even having been there a full five minutes, we head to the bar to get ourselves a drink when, mid-sentence, our companion sprinted with no explanation. After bringing her a drink, she proceeded to tell us that one the aforementioned drunk, old-ish men at the bar was working hard to catch her eye.

Trying her best to look away, he proceeded to discreetly pull up his shirt a bit and start rubbing his stomach, his hand heading southward...before she had the chance to see where his impromptu caress-fest was going, she bolted. WTF!? Who does that at a bar? You can't make this sick sh*t up.