by our man about town Timothy Flapp
From the outside, it looked like any ordinary Second Avenue club.
Of course, the raves from The New York Times in the windows betokened otherwise...
And the tough guy out front looked, auspiciously, like he might be called Max.
So we went in.
Presto! Instant coolness. The space waslively, elegant, everyone chattering whichway, and filling up fast. It was, it turned out, downtown’s hippest alternative supper-club: Pangea, at 178 Second Avenue.
Then this unrecon