This particular Friday night was born on Hailo’s roof with a bottle of sparkling and a bottle of red. I popped the bubbly open, because no one else knew how and because I desperately wanted to. The cork flew beyond the building into the street and I prayed it didn’t hit someone.
We spoke of obedience, punishment, and the upcoming elections while simultaneously recording content in our Dostoevsky merch. It was sort of like a subconscious priority-setting ritual. We acknowledge the things before we drink and forget them.
The target was Dimes Square, though Hailo’s friend told her that our target no longer existed. We were on a wild goose chase, looking for Dimes Square, looking for entertainment, looking for the most interesting person in ‘the scene.’
I knew we arrived when a gaggle of white kids with brown hair and baggy pants came into view, loitering in the street between bars and restaurants. I recognized one Greek restaurant as the one where my friend and I were mistaken for a heterosexual couple. I was amazed to know I had actually been in Dimes Square before and this further confirmed that our target scene was perhaps no longer a scene. Ananya and I went into a narrow, crowded bar and she realized she had been there the night before; further confirmation of its unremarkable quality (because if the scene was scene-ing, we would remember we were there, right?).
Frankly, upon first glance everyone in the bar seemed boring and I began to feel our mission might be impossible. But among the sea of white grad-aged interns I spotted a slightly older Black woman sitting at the bar alone. Ananya took charge of the approach, asking the woman what she was drinking. It was a Jamaican beer. We found out she was from the Bronx and I told her I was too. She asked me where and, out of habit, I wasn’t very specific in my response. She urged me to say more, claiming
‘I know the Bronx, I’m from there.’
Touché.
She told us that she frequents this bar and about how she used to work around the corner where she was underpaid and mistreated. When she left that job, she found her current boss at this very bar. According to her, Sarah, the bartender, is the best bartender in all of New York City.
Once the woman checked out from our conversation we moved toward a young woman wearing a red polka dot dress and red flower in her hair sitting two seats down. She may not have been The Red Scare we anticipated (the duo who pioneered the Dimes Square scene host a podcast by this title), but she was certainly in red and there was certainly something scarily amusing about her. Ananya asked:
‘We’re looking for the most interesting person in the bar…is there anyone you think we should talk to?’
She insisted we were looking for her.
I asked her to explain the inspiration behind her look and she told us that as a Cuban and Asian (she did not specify a country) woman, each time she gets dressed she decides if she wants to be Cuban or Asian. Tonight was a Cuban night.
Earlier that day when I searched the web for a brief summary describing Dimes Square, I found this reddit post:
I of course don’t know the woman in the polka dot dress or her relationship to her identities or even to the area we met in. It’s possible she doesn’t know the context in which this scene exists. Yet I could not help but think back to this post while she spoke of choosing between cultures. I wondered if she ever chose based on what area she was going to. I wondered what she would wear on a night she chose Asian over Cuban. I wondered if the woman from the Bronx knew of this place as Dimes Square too.
The girl in the polka dot dress, who we later discovered goes by Coco Angelo,* recited a poem to us. Then a white man entered and waved to her.
‘Excuse-moi, I have to go. My Lover’s here.’
I stayed inside and talked to some other young women at the bar while Ananya followed Coco, her lover, and their friends outside. The next woman I spoke to was of the “let’s talk about my poop” variety. I will spare you the details but just know the conversation was very detailed and included pictures.
To end the night Hailo took us to her bar. It was a vastly different vibe. The bar was occupied by people aged 30+, and there were a few couples eating dinner at the elegant booths that filled the rest of the space. We talked to a woman who works in banking and she was deeply interested in supporting us and our work (stay tuned for a bank collab?). I asked one of the bartenders who knows Hailo to make me a yummy cocktail. He asked what I like and I told him I like gin, rum, or tequila. He asked if I wanted them all together. I didn’t. We asked him about Dimes Square and he told us he’s often there for brunch but never at night.
While outside the bar, Ananya got the poet to repeat the poem into her phone. It’s attached below. Since that night I’ve returned to the area a few times and I only recently put together that the bar we went into was Clanedstino; a bar my friend has mentioned a few times and is quite popular. Upon a google search I discovered it was/is the center of dimes square. Maybe scenes are only scenes if you pay attention enough to draw the connection.
All love,
*upon brief inspection of her website she is a London-based artist and I've enjoyed what I've seen of her work. I'd like to meet her again one day.
<3