Oakwood 83

The glowing neon signs in the windows of this middlebrow supper club proclaim: steak, ribs and fish. But after 2am, they could just as easily declare transvestites, Eastern European mafia and drunken frat dudes. That all of these demographics and more can comfortably mingle is a testament to the friendly staff, a surprisingly good jukebox and the shared belief that the first eight vodka tonics just weren’t enough.