Maybe this is a thirtysomething thing. Maybe this is a Seinfeld problem. Or maybe there really are too many goddamn restaurants in this city that ruin a perfectly good thing by blasting Tiësto when you’re just trying to sip and chirp.
I mean really, is Afrojack EVER a welcome soundtrack to brunching? Not that any musical accompaniment could possibly alleviate the basic-ness of brunch in this city, but you know what REALLY doesn’t go well with huevos rancheros and a $13 Bloody Mary oyster shooter? ARMIN VAN BUUREN. Nope. Please no. Make it stop. Not at brunch, or lunch, or linner. Not ever.
There’s a potentially amazeballs waterside restaurant in my treasured Seaport called Watermark. It’s new. It’s airy. It has unparalleled positioning on a pier down by Wall Street overlooking the Two Bridges and Brooklyn Bridge Park. I want to like it so, so hard. Just look at this!
But for the love of all things holy, I cannot sit through a single mojito while the Hardwell x Chris Brown remix pounds away at my senses. What could the proprietors possibly be thinking? Guess what folks, this ain’t Ibiza, the jig is up! Everyone knows outdoor restos and yacht rock go had in hand. That’s like, waterside hospitality 101.
Watermark, please, I beg of you. Turn down deadmau5 and get on the Hall & Oates train while we still have August and September.