Description
Past the sex shops, and slightly beyond such slightly more debauched pubs as the Slaughtered Lamb and the Four Faced Liar, Oliver's proudly stands as the block's singular source of purity. Wearing a shining, ivory coat of paint, the place fills two storefronts with massive windows, booth seating, mahogany fixtures, antique travel advertisements, and a scalloped brick ceiling. It's this goulash of cozy amenities that reels in the area's well-to-do, friendlier tourists, thrilled to have found a snug spot in which to throw back a couple pints of Stella Artois in, for the West Village, relative peace.
