I found it by accident on the southwest corner of 14th and 8th on a cold Friday night. Not planning on hitting a club that night, I stood near the door, dressed rather relaxed in a pair of multi-colored sneakers, jeans, and a matching t-shirt. Meanwhile, a mostly urban crowd of black and Hispanic gay men in their early twenties flashed there ID’s and entered a club with no name on the door. I decided to follow suit and see if this would perhaps be my new favorite hotspot for my Friday nights. The music echoing up to meet me consisted of some of the newest and hottest tracks in hip-hop. A good start, I thought to myself as I walked past the bouncer. I should’ve known better when I followed a flight of stairs down into what appeared to be a red-lighted basement. At only a few blocks east of Manhattan’s meat packing district you’d expect the ambiance to be a bit more trendy and stylish, especially when the cover was an over priced $20. Be it as it may, I continued on. It was only at coat check that I realized was at Plumm. After my eyes adjusted to the lack of lights, I realized what I had walked into. Immediately after handing over my coat, I was greeted with a highly crowded and cramped dance floor. Yeah the music was hot, but it looked like I’d have to shove and kick to just be able to get enough space for a simple two-step.
A thick cloud of cigarette smoke veiled a highly under stocked bar. Regardless, I elbowed my way into the bartender’s line of vision and, with vodka-cran in hand, made my way into a congested, musty dungeon of a dance floor. It all looked to familiar, like that frat party where you knew most of the girls were getting roofied and date raped, except there were mostly guys here. I passed a group of twenty-somethings all wearing the same thing, skinny jeans and fitted caps, also known as ghetto couture. After dancing to Beyonce’s Diva and Jamie Fox’s Blame It, the D.J. announced that the upstairs was finally open. Like a convict seeking freedom, I made a run for it.
Upstairs, I was pleasantly surprised. Apparently, this room was reserved for the grown and sexy, as well as the handful of women who were ditched by their gay friends back on the first floor. It was a complete contrast from downstairs, though it had no dance floor, it definitely had more class. It was more spacious with plush couches and coffee tables, complete with busty black women dancing on some of the tables. The bar not only had a myriad of basic and top shelf bottles, but also a beautiful bartender who made drinks like it was her sole purpose in life. After a few more minutes of enjoying the nicotine less air and hip-hop hits, I decided it was time to go.
Plumm is in a prime location; unfortunately the first floor is very reminiscent of a college dive bar. It even has those two guys who are about to enter a wild competition of fisticuffs. And while the second floor attempts to make up for the price gouging, it falls short of becoming a nightlife staple in lower Manhattan. While the music is decent and the crowd is semi-attractive, it’s not the type of place that would get me excited to leave my borough on a Friday night. If you’re looking for somewhere to go where you don’t need to get all dolled up, than Plumm is for you (although I’d suggest arriving before midnight in order to enter for a reduced rate). If on the other hand, you were looking for something a little more polished than continue west to the Meat Packing district. Stay tuned next time when I bring you to Brooklyn’s board game bars.
Plumm is located at 246 W 14th St. in Manhattan between 7th and 8th ave.
