If the newly opened East Village Yacht Club, on First Street between First and Second Avenues, is a faithful representation of the experiential reality of the upper class, we say NO THANKS. The bar-restaurant-club is kitted out in Nantucketian WASP chic: Silver plates and tureens on shelves, mounted rudders, nautical prints, a swordfish upstairs. Down the spiral staircase lined with maritime flags, the cavernous lounge space is filled with sofas, trophies, model ships and a large television screen on which is projected some New England marina. Also, the food poisoning was really chic.

The urge to drink at a place classier than it sounds is a natural one. Slurring your words too closely to somebody else's face as specks of saliva shower like sparks from a blowtorch to finally nestle in your beard as you simultaneously grow more gregarious and cynically introspective seems so much sophisticated when you're doing it in a place called a "yacht club" as opposed to just another "shitty bar." Thus the landlocked Gowanus Yacht Club in Carroll Gardens imbues a certain degree of elegance to the hot dog and PBR aficionados who gather there. Now, as FloFab mentions in the Times the East Village will get its own yacht not-yacht club, the East Village Yacht Club. This outfit promises to be genuinely, or at least earnestly, high class: a menu ripe with lobster, a raw bar and an answering machine message promising champagne. The club is housed in the restaurant deathtrap on 1st street where Chez Es Saada (and before after that the horribly named Ludo) recently shuttered, but instead of cheesy Middle Eastern decor and thick-necked asshats in vertically striped shirts, it'll be all done up with knots, maritime prints and thick-necked asshats in nautical stripes. Ahoy!

New listings with the "New York Commercial Realty Services" show that recently-opened Pizzeria Di Santo on Ludlow Street might be out on the street. (Mediocre pizza and a cheap Street Fighter arcade machine will only get you so far, it seems. And here we all thought it was Cronkite that would conk out first.) Also for lease is the space that contains Zozo's, the weird "fresh" fast food place on Stanton and Orchard—on the market for "only" $9,000 a month. More opportunities! Fuelray is going for $17,500 a month—it's that old nasty N.Y.U. hangout on W. 3rd Street. And Moomia, at $16,800 a month, is a barren hookah bar on Lafayette. The already-closed Chelsea institution The Biltmore can be yours for $16,500 a month. But what will become of the old and beautiful Ottendorfer Library branch on 135 Second Avenue? 115 years old, and the first building to be constructed specifically to be a library, it just underwent a $3.1 mil renovation. Now advertised as "Perfect for Restaurant/Bar," it's going for $150 per square foot. We didn't think a fatter drunker less literate East Village was possible, but turns out we were wrong. —Josh

Remember that weird store under construction for a while on St. Mark's that, we really wanted to believe, would only sell over-sized papier maché dog sculptures? Remember that sense of wonder and hope we had that perhaps, just perhaps, St. Mark's would pull itself out of its debased noodle shop and belly-button piercing morass and into the realm of Koonsian grandeur? Well, catch those hopes in butterfly nets and stow them in Bell jars for a rainy day.

To celebrate the release of Everybody Hurts: An Essential Guide to Emo Culture, we went deep into the gurgling heart of emo culture last night: Pete Wentz's Angels and Kings bar. Not wanting to stand out like an un-Emo sore thumb, we got some help putting on some guyliner—following Pete's example!

In the real New York, bar bathrooms serve as fitting rooms for trying on potential pairings, an all-important step before making that one-night commitment. Luckily for us, Slut Machine has been around all the blocks. In this occasional column, she rates which restrooms of N.Y.C.'s watering holes are best for non-traditional restroom activities.

• The dairy-concoction wars heat up yet again; Yolato is coming to Grand Central. Yo-Yo-Yolato! Take that, Pinkberry!
  

When emo-troubadour Pete Wentz opened Angels and Kings, a bar in the East Village, our douche canary in our douche mineshaft keeled over and died. First of all, Pete Wentz is going to be there. As he tells Page Six: "Yeah, I'm just gonna be local and drink umbrella drinks." So this isn't your normal dive. According to one of his business partners, this is a dive where "anyone can go and have sex in the bathroom and not get in trouble." So it's located in international waters? We sat down with Maura Johnston, editor of our music blog Idolator, to discuss the musical and societal implications of the bar the kids like to call AK-47.

Perhaps because they couldn't find enough bars in the East Village with skinny annoying emo kids in them, the lads from Fall Out Boy are planning on opening a bar at 11th and A. The shame about the whole thing is is that whatever satirical details we try to come up with to underscore the lameness of the endeavor have already been enacted by the band themselves. Come up with a lame name? Okay, "Angels and Kings"! How about decorate the place with the most banal and obvious musical icons? "[The bar] will be decorated with mug shots of Sid Vicious and Johnny Cash." Foiled again! Okay, how about this: Name the drinks after song names by the band themselves? "Drink specials may be tied to their song names"? Sadly, yes. The bar is set to open April 30th, and to close July 18. Probably when the bartender overdoses on Ativan in the parking lot of a Best Buy in Chicago and starts talking about himself in the third person. —josh

Rod Townsend (aka our commenter Momo), sometimes receives telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.

Good news for fans of hops and gentrification: Zum Schneider, the pioneering German bar/restaurant in the East Village, has had its lease extended to 2021 after a protracted court battle. Owner Sylvester Schneider, magnanimous in victory, touched on some of the reasons his landlords might have wanted him out: "You should know that this whole thing was not just a money thing; it was also a racial thing. We are white; they are Puerto Ricans." The affable Deutschlander continued:

Oh, the Cooper Square Hotel, 21 (we hear 21, now!) floors of fun and intrigue on the Bowery. After a recent post about the hotel's three humongoid entertainment venues, we received some dish. First up, the hoteliers: The Peck Moss Group is no longer. The board two weeks ago decided to be done with Gregory Peck, one half of the partnership. (Let's call it a permanent Roman holiday! Ha!) Reason? In the words of one, "He's a huge douchebag." Fair enough.

Sound familiar? A new hotel towering over the Bowery created by two successful young hoteliers. A hotel with three separate entertainment venues including a somewhat exclusive basement restaurant? Right now, I bet you're nodding and thinking, "Ooo, that does sound familiar! In fact, it sounds like the Bowery Hotel!" Well, you're both right and wrong!

While buildings are collapsing nearby and the Lower East Side's nightlife is mourning the loss of not one but two of its beloved clubs, at least nightlife on St. Mark's Place is alive and well. And with what unimpeachable evidence do we propose to support that specious supposition? No, not the burgeoning singles scene at Chipotle, nor even the continued and inexplicable popularity of Bamn!, the automat. No, it's this soon-to-be-opened papier-m ch puppy store. Or at least, it is our sincere hope that this store will exclusively sell oversized papier-m ch puppies, and not many, just one at a time. Sadly the counter, the menu boards up top and the fact that it is on poor beaten St. Mark's suggest just another cheap eatery for N.Y.U.'s bedraggled and befuddled.

Boucarou Lounge, at 64 E. 1st Street, is enjoying its soft opening. As per the PRopaganda: "At 2000 square feet, Boucarou will be the first comfortably sized lounge on the LES, offering an elegant and sophisticated atmosphere, complete with a sliding skylight mezzanine. Designer Breanna Carlson crafted the subdued gold and mocha-hued d cor to be upscale yet laid back, and chic but down to earth." We'll be the judges of that—by stealing the one good idea Harper's ever had.

The East Village is full of hookah bars and yet hookah bars are never full of East Villagers. What up? The inappropriate preponderance of hookah bars is an unimpeachable fact. We count nearly 15 in the strict East Village, each most notable for its complete total lack of patrons. Sure, we see why it seems like a good idea to open up a shisha lounge: a nice detour around no-smoking laws, low overhead, no kitchen needed, smoking is fun. But, the demand for a good hookah bar is limited to 15 or 20 NYU students who relish long discussions about Walker Percy while enjoying a delightful apple-scented tobacco.

The nightlife of the East Village has been gradually drying up over the past few years. Speaking as your After Hours Editor, this depletion of nocturnal watering holes has rocked me to the core. Many have blamed Community Board 3, a group of E.Vill residents with nothing better to do on a Monday night than foil the plans of many a restaurateur. But as with so many things downtown, the real culprit might have been a little farther afield.

Avenue A's grimiest coffeehouse will soon reopen as "Hopscotch, a caf tailored to the needs of children and families," according to a press release we received today. Though its ownership will remain the same (two new co-owners will step in), we're still sad. And we're not even sure why! It's not like Alt was particularly good for anything. The coffee is totally meh. The place reeks of cigs and B.O., even though no one has (legally) smoked there for years. The seating is crowded, broke-down and uncomfortable! The unlockable bathroom is one of the grossest non-Turnpike ones ever! The WIFI IS NOT EVEN FREE! Still, we mourn a bit. Maybe it's because it's just weird to have lived someplace for less than a decade and yet to have seen almost everything cheap and weird about it get systematically obliterated. On the bright side, though, we will totally look forward to rolling our Peg Perego into Hopscotch in some years!

Rod Townsend (aka our commenter Momo), sometimes receives telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.

The gentrified neighborhood story never gets old, it seems—even when said neighborhood has been gentrified for years. Today's victim was Alphabet City, which the Post breathlessly notes was really crappy back in the day. Why, people even did heroin in Tompkins Square Park!