The problem with douche-y bars is that they sometimes make the best drinks. Although we shudder at every mention of a "master mixologist," we secretly wish there was a place for us and our unpopped collars at the counter. But sometimes, when we're feeling just thirsty enough for some sort of herbal not-too-sweet retro cocktail, we're willing to ignore the frat boys' weird mating rituals with sad, desperate girls going on all around us and get the drink we deserve. Hotel Griffou, on West 9th Street, which is becoming the douchiest block in the West Village thanks to the Lion down the street, is exactly the kind of place we'd go to for an outstanding adult beverage, even with the bevy of annoying tools hanging around the sunken front steps leading into this restaurant. The precious flavored ice blocks, the muddled fresh fruits, the liberal use of spirits straight out of 1930s Italy are enough to dull the sound of word "bro" echoing through the dim, vintage townhouse living room. 21 West 9th Street, 212-358-0228, griffou.com (10011)