SURE, IT'S NOT MUCH TO LOOK AT NOW, BUT WAIT UNTIL IT'S FULL OF DOUCHES Eldridge Those of you who keep track on the gentrification of Manhattan's Lower East Side—the neighborhood's "coming of age" is the euphemism hotelier Jason Pomeranc prefers—may have been amused by the minor hullabaloo surrounding a post on New York Magazine's website about a soon-to-be-opened bar called "The Eldridge." Well, not just any bar: owner Matt Levine, who also owns the clothing label Steelo (What's Steelo, you ask? Per Urban Dictionary: "Slang for style; a playa's aura"), pretty much promised that "The Eldridge" would revolutionize nightlife as we know it. There would be butlers, not bartenders. Chaperones, not security guards. Table attendants, not waitresses. It would be closed during the weekends because "Everyone I know goes away on the weekends." There would be $650,000 worth of Champagne on the wall, and more Rose Armand de Brignac than in the "entire state of New York." Access would be granted only to those who have a "laser-engraved entry card." People from Brooklyn would be banned. And so on and so forth.