There are so many reasons to come to the East Village hideaway Climax. Come with your secret someone for the sexy, after-hours-tryst vibe. The upstairs DJ spins smooth old-school hip-hop, and there are plenty of shadowy, candlelit corners for late-night hanky-panky. The flat-screen TV playing what looks like Girls Gone Wild above the roped-off V.I.P. section almost kills the mood, but close your eyes and that blue glare doesn't even exist.
Come for Tuesday night's subterranean drum'n'bass party. From 11 to midnight, five bucks gets you access to the open vodka bar. With cocktail in hand, head over to the mirror-lined lower level, which plays host to a bridge-and-tunnel crowd showing off dance moves unseen since warehouse rave was in vogue back in '96.
Come for the dirty martinis ($10), so briny you can smell the olive juice despite the incense wafting through the bar. The bartender might forget about you, but with Buddha and some tiki idols gazing benevolently down from above the bar, that hardly seems tragic. A word to the wise, though: The party doesn't start until late, so for heaven's sake, don't come too early!