Rumored to have been a sleazy WWII-era sailor bar, the casually fabulous Nowhere slipped largely unnoticed onto the East Village gay scene exactly a year ago. But now an enticing crowd can be found thereboth at happy hour and during late nights. Owned and managed by the crew who gave you the Phoenix and Brooklyn's own Metropolitan, it offers the same wide-open atmosphere that makes its sister bars so popularone relaxed enough for your straight pals, and yet cruisy enough to keep the sexual tension on a steady simmer for all concerned. The cozy, semi-basement Nowhere also boasts purple-and-gold brocade wallpaper, stiff (but reasonably priced) drinks, and a jukebox that offers everything from the latest Magnetic Fields and Loretta to vintage Love, Dean Martin, and Dolly. Behind the imposing carved wooden bar you'll find an ex-model and a brace of would-be rock stars whose collective good looks and charm make it well worth finding this treasure, wedged between a cell phone joint and a tacky hair salon. For the ursine-inclined there's Big Lug night every Tuesday, where burly, bearded gents and their admirers gather for $2 PBRs, free peanuts, and the opportunity to discuss Star Trek, hankie codes, and Atkins with relative impunity.