Central Station, once one of the few longstanding, more esoteric staples of Bushwick for its demure location and no frills nature, has, alas been replaced. While the interior remains somewhat the same, there can be no denying that the name change to Fine Time is nothing if not a strong indication of just where Bushwick is at.
While Central Station was never exactly a grand prize, it had a certain charm, the food was good and you could always count on it not being overly packed to the gills. The alteration to Fine Time, on the other hand, puts none too fine a point on just where we’ve arrived after so many years of being known as a den of iniquity: content–perfectly happy to sit back and let the sanitization wash over us. We don’t want a debauched time, a great time or even a good time. Fine is just fine.
One of the new regulars at the bar, Sam Parr, a 24-year-old who recently moved to the neighborhood from Missouri, gushed, “I think it’s a great place to just sit and quietly drink without getting into trouble. Meeting other similarly-minded people who want to stare at screens and not get too crazy, ya know? It really is the dictionary definition of adequate.” So adequate, in fact, that the ilk it attracts looks so comparable that most patrons end up going home with the same people every night because they can’t tell the difference.
Written by Genna Rivieccio