by Mauro Mendonsa on
Well, what can I say. This fits the usual generic, yuppie, young 20 somethings crowd looking for a good time in LES . It is a bit classier than most divey joints given the fact that the have some nice house cocktails- they're not half bad and you pay the price for them. Amongst them are named after iconic figures from the 1920s: Clark Gable, Ella (I assume Fitzgerald). This place is better on the earlier side- because it gets VERY jammed packed as the night rages on. And rage on, you shall at Ella. Upstairs, it's pretty chill, nothing special- downstairs is where the DJ plays on, and there's the most psychedelic dance floor with this crazy brown and white roof ahead. I did appreciate the uniqueness of that. There's not too much of a hassle to get in, but it's definitely a spot to check out vs. other LES douche bars. There's a quaintness about Ella that I like in comparison to the other places.
by Mary F. on
This place has become the catalyst for the best worst weekend of my life. Every good story needs to be given a title, so the world can be privy to the extent of it's ridiculousness. I'll dub thee "Dr. Know's atomic Fist Fuck: or how I learned to stop worrying and bail my friends out of jail" I've loved this venue for years. But Saturday night set it off. I am set for the El Rio: combat boots, water proof eyeliner and a gaggle of my biggest male friends to surround me just in case I get eating in the pit. (Nardcore shows are super fun!) Ready to roll son. Peachy fucking keen. That is until..... my ex shows up. (Plot Twist!) In this crowd, he still finds a means to focus his stalker beam on me and zero in. I alert the guard. Next thing I know, homeboy is basically making me an umbrella for his sweat storm and I am pissed. He's violated the terms of the restraining order so technically, anything I do from that point on is in the realm of my jurisdiction. Score! Check and mate. But I don't want get too deep, so I just play the bigger person and let things go. Then the song "Fist Fucker" comes on, and my dumb ass ex looks straight at me, and yells "I USED TO DO THAT TO YOU, AND YOU LIKED IT" First off: NOT TRUE ON BOTH COUNTS Secondly: I couldn't even get to my second point because w/in 5 seconds http://i26.photobucket... http://i26.photobucket... http://i26.photobucket... we're on his ass like butter on toast. I've never seen a finer display of beat down talents from my boys since the Parking Lot Pimp off of '03. I'd hate to leave you, El Rio... but it's time to RUN BOYS RUN! Here comes the popo. When I gather my strength, I'll write parts 2 and 3: Aladdin Bail Bonds and The Pawn Shop.