It’s in the Meatpacking District, which is all you need to know if you live in New York. If you don’t, I will tell you a bit more.
It’s in a basement, and it’s trying to be cool as opposed to just being cool. It offers expensive drinks because of its location, but it also features a “free happy hour” package that shaves a dollar or two off the prices, which your friend has invited you to and which is the only reason you are here. It has couches, and a pool table, and a skeeball machine, but the couch might have gum on it and your friend may spend a half hour in the bathroom scrubbing her skirt with ice. A man is walking around begging you and everyone he sees to sign up for a free happy hour. There is a velvet rope. Across the street is a bar with nice lights and outdoor seating, which seems perfect for this hot weather at the start of a Memorial Day weekend, but you are in a dark cave of pretentiousness that is the worst kind in that it thinks it is not pretentious.
I hardly ever go to the Meatpacking District, both for proximity and atmospheric reasons, so I may not be offering a fair assessment. There are probably many worse bars in the neighborhood that charge even more for the illusion of cool.