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When you walk into Red Rock West you think, "I might get my ass kicked in this place"—not a sentiment many New York City bars inspire these days. Red Rock is a shrine to all things white trash, and the early evening patrons aren't acting. Later, when the place fills up, it becomes a hillbilly burlesque show with dancing barmaids spitting shots into customers' mouths. Sure, some of the bar-stomping routines seem like they were lifted directly from the movie named after Red Rock's East Village rival (you know the one), but by the end of the night you'll be singing "Gimme Three Steps" along with every other guy in the place. — Henry Tenney

Bartenders have the howling hordes eating out of their hands and, occasionally, drinking out of their navels.