This is where it all began in 1884, when Mr. Patrick Joseph Clarke opened the doors of the little brick saloon that would, over the next century, grow to become the legend that it is today.

Over the decades, the neighborhood around P.J.’s has experienced momentous upheaval, from the dismantling of the Third Ave El to the skyscraper boom of the 1950s. But through it all, the bar has remained virtually unchanged with its quirks intact – from the human leg bones over the door (an Irish talisman of luck) to the pay phone that has been broken for decades, to Skippy the dog, once the bar’s mascot, who was stuffed and mounted by the regular gang after he met his untimely demise at the wheels of a car and now forever stands guard at the bar.

It’s the place, so unforgettable, that Johnny Mercer penned “One for My Baby” on a napkin while sitting at the bar, and serves as the backdrop for the classic film, The Lost Weekend. Step inside and you’ll know instantly why P.J. Clarke’s is more than just another bar, but the legendary haunt of Frank Sinatra, Elizabeth Taylor, Jackie Kennedy, and countless others – famous, infamous, and unknown alike.