As I shivered my way from the Broadway-Lafayette F-V stop to Eldridge street last weekend, I came upon a duo of smartly-dressed late 20-somethings.

“Yeah, it seems like wherever you live in the city, everyone is coming here to the Lower East Side at night.” She was definitely a recent transplant, trying to explain the city to her visiting friend.

I tried my best to feel superior, but realized that my knowing that already doesn’t actually make me any cooler. I was just one of the crowd headed east past the Whole Foods Bowery on a Saturday night. I was headed to bOb bar (235 Eldridge between Houston and Stanton).

The space, in Columbia terms, is roughly the size of 1020, but it was packed like a freshman party in John Jay. According to New York Magazine’s website, it is one of the “one of the coziest drinking destinations on the Lower East Side,” with plush red couches and rotating art installations on the walls.

Maybe at 9pm. But by 11, it’s more like a high school dance. Walking in the door, I immediately wished I had taken the initiative to pregame, since getting to the bar from the entrance was a task best suited to the drunk or under 10 crowd–lots of shoving with no remorse.

There was loud thumping coming from the south corner of the room. Just before I left I figured out that there was a DJ over there because I heard him say something. I never saw him. But thumping of speakers, there was. At 11, it was reggae, and by one when I left it had become hip hop. The crowd was dressed to match. There were a few dreaded guys who looked like they might have woken up that morning in Amsterdam, but there were also plenty of plain awkward New Yorkers, bumping and grinding to whatever beat happened to giving them the excuse to get their freak on in a public place. It really did look like some sort of mishmash of guys from Murray Hill, Wall Street outliers, and NYU students.

I flashed back to the night before. I had been but one block away at Arlo and Esme (42 E. 1st St. btwn. First and Second Avenues). While technically on the uptown side of Houston, for purposes of this article we’ll call it the LES. There is a bar upstairs which serves as a coffeeshop by day, wine bar by night. Below ground there is a full bar, dance floor, and pool room. What’s not to love? Looking back on this place, I had a really good time. Sure, the bartenders are a little heavy-handed on the vermouth (beware the Manhattan), but overall, the whisky was flowing and most people were so busy dancing that there was no line for the pool table.

The crowd when I first walked in, however, reminded me why I like the Lower East Side during the day and need to find a new neighborhood at night. I arrived earlier than my friends, having come straight from dinner with an old boss. The bar was laid out in such a way as to dissuade people from hanging out there (which made sense to me once I saw the bar fill up), so I headed to the room next door, the dance floor looking for somewhere to sit or someone to strike up a conversation with. No such luck: just an array of NYC prep school girls and business-y types clearly trolling for such underagers.

I can only grudgingly accept that the Lower East Side might be washed up. Going out on the Lower East Side is a point of pride; it shows dedication (an hour on the subway, plus more walking) to find the really cool underground of the city. But, then again, isn’t that what living in Manhattan is all about? The entire island wants to be on the cutting edge. If you are in the cool place, you are already a step or two behind.

I guess it’s time to start scoping out the uncool places. I just hope they are closer to the 1 train.