Who knew that douche bags liked ping pong so much?
It seems as though the bright orange balls attract their feeble minds like catnip.
Don't you dare call it a Ping Pong place. It's a "social club". If by "social" you mean "Ping Pong".
I couldn't figure the place out. You can probably buy your own ping pong table for your home at around the price of a round of beer here.
The aesthetic is warehouse-chic. The tables seem well lit. The crowd is a mix of "Bridge and Tunnel" and "King Street Vomit".
Everyone's so quick to let you know that famed Hollywood grandmother Susan Sarandon is an investor in this spot. I'm still not quite so sure why this is relevant. I have no idea what she has to do with either bars or ping pong. I mean, that's like saying that a plug-in electrical grill can be marketed based on it's loose connection with a former Heavyweight champ. Ludicrous.
I had the fish tacos. They were totally adequate, perhaps a notch above standard pub fare. I ate them while watching two people playing ping pong. Neither of whom was Susan Sarandon.
How did they think up this place? How did they convince a legitimate financial institution to back this ridiculous premise?
I truly left more confused than when I entered.