But no matter who's there (and with dollar drinks, everyone is), the eclectic and never-ending jukebox is always the center of attention. The ceiling is a tawdry cornucopia of party knick-knacks like Chinese lanterns model airplanes. It's also a great neighborhood bar, and until the Beatrice Inn closed next door, it was a great place to sink your sorrows after getting rejected from that door. The heart of the West Village might be the last place on earth you'd expect to find a rrriotin' lesbian bar, but Cubbyhole has been for NY's queer lady folk – and increasingly, plenty of guys - since it opened in '94.
