Rooftop bar, 230 Fifth

Photo: Ben Goldstein

230 Fifth Ave between 26th and 27th Sts, 212-725-4300

Crowning a dreary Flatiron office complex, 230 Fifth is a massive rooftop bar offering stunning views of the Empire State, MetLife and Chrysler Buildings—and breathtaking views of the hordes of prowling hotties who’ve made it past the long, snaking lines outside. You’ll find the door policy remarkably lenient (at 22,000 square feet, quantity over quality is the abiding theme—and they really pack them in). Just don’t wear flip-flops or ripped jeans.

step 1 There are two levels here: a Vegas-inspired indoor space, complete with flowing curtains backlit in fuchsia, and then the truly spectacular roof, outfitted with potted palms, striped umbrellas and the backdrop of a glittering Manhattan skyline. Hit the roof. The after-work commuter mecca is awash in untucked striped button-downs and titty tops: Let’s just say it’s heavy with low-hanging fruit, ripe for pick-your-own action.

step 2 Only one third of the outdoor space (the inner ring that connects the two bars) is unreserved, which means that it’s a Bermuda Rectangle mosh pit. Most people arrive in groups, but they split up because there’s no choice other than to traipse around single file. It’s like a line dance. The herding does, however, ensure that you’ll pass each of your potential suitors at least once.

step 3 Make your way to the bar and take advantage of the scrum scene that awaits (you’ll be there for ages). Strike a bargain with the likely looker next to you: Whoever gets served first buys the other one a drink. If nothing else, it’ll add a little excitement to the lengthy wait for your $9 draft or $12 cocktail. Return to scrum and repeat.

step 4 There are never any available seats—this is good. It means there’s literally no place to congregate with friends, and no place to sit and hide. Because everyone is in the same situation, it’s really easy to strike up a conversation. Talking points: “Don’t you just love the Water Taxi in the summertime?”; whether his/her top makes their boobs look fat; Age of Love; and the classic “Do you work out?”

step 5 Real pros, though, should take advantage of the fact that the reserved areas (which range from huge corners to smallish tables) are scattered with placards stating exactly whom or what the area is for. You’ll see everything from reserved for jerry smith to pick-a-bank-or-law-firm summer associate mixer. And there is nothing—no rope, no guy with a list—to impede you from claiming some tertiary connection to the party.

step 6 Finally, when (and we do mean when) you manage to wrangle someone to head home with, arrange to meet outside. Otherwise, the garishly lit elevators will destroy any semblance of romance. And for God’s sake, spring for a car service—the last van from the Port Authority left hours ago.