The Palms Bar and Grill

My issues with this bar are three fold. First off I stood at the bar for about 20 minutes while the female bartender just stood staring off into space literally doing nothing. Second, I went into the ladies room and had about three girls compliment me on my jacket. They all looked pretty young, when I asked their age they giggled and said 16. Looking around the bar it seemed the majority of the crowd looked like a high school prom. Third, the second time I went to the bar I couldn’t hear the middle aged dj /​bartender who was clearly having a mid-​life crisis so I asked him to repeat himself he asked «what are you, fucking deaf»? What I should have said was no, I can’t hear you over your shitty Playlist.

Great staff, great food, great, and great atmosphere. Best Mexican bar food in town — closes when the bar closes.

The palms bar and grill is the move if you want to not remember how much fun you had or the delicious quesadilla you ate at 2am

Atmosphere is fun and friendly. The addition to the patio area is a great place to grab a drink and chill with your friends during happy hour

The more «sophisticated», white-​trash step brother bar of The Boot. That being said, my review will repeat my reflections from there:
It’s a college bar with a seedy reputation. I’ve heard all sorts of glory stories from back in the days when under-​age rebels and fratters alike mingled about, dancing to thumping beats, chugging alcohol, and making all sorts of questionable decisions (to say the least). Although this is clearly STILL the case with Tulane and Loyola students today, I’m a little beyond the targeted age range.
Thankfully, during my visit, the crowd was slim due to summer break. Our bar crawl gang took over, enjoyed many hard drinks (read: we were the only patrons until almost 1am), then moved on to the next venture or found a cab to go home and pass out. Anyone over 25 should do the same.
Pool tables, pleather couches (which you really should NOT sit on. gross), stripper poles, velvet curtained «VIP Room», a make-​shift DJ booth (ie someone’s laptop on a stand in the corner), and a few gambling machines are a few added touches to this fine establishment.

I think Shannon may have highlighted one of the only redeeming qualities of this bar, the heads/​tails game on Fridays.
I’ve been here on a few occasions for our guy friends to «shark» the college kids in a game of pool and for a friend’s White Trash Bash. Like I’ve said in the past about bars of this nature, if you have enough friends, you can create a bubble… sometimes. If you’re not a college kid, there really is absolutely no reason for you to be in this bar. Don’t set your expectations higher than Senior Year, and that’s reaching.
One thing that has set The Palms apart from other college dive bars I’ve been to, is that the girls are pretty damn forward. Ladies, Hold On To Yer Men! I’ve been to the college bars Uptown, and have had some young whippersnappers hit on me, but every single time I’ve been to The Palms, my boyfriend and his friends are propositioned left and right.
I will retell one story of hilarity that I remember fondly of The Palms…
So there’s a stripper pole. With lounge-​y seats around it with God knows what kind of regret growing on them. Well, two pretty young things that might’ve just finished their day shift on Bourbon (working their way through college, of course) flounced on over to the pole, and showed that pole who’s boss. Every guy and most of the girls in the bar couldn’t help but ogle at this impromptu performance. That is until Big Bertha and her sister Hippy Helena caught sight of how much fun the toothpick twins were having. Somehow Helena and Bertha managed to unhinge the two noodles and put on a show of their own. The spell had been broken, and I’ve never seen so many neck injuries from whiplash occurring simultaneously. I looked on with a smile as these two full-​figured dancers, in their own right, performed acrobatics learned only through experience, though the upside down slow go down the pole looked a little painful from my angle.
That night, I was happy to have visited The Palms. ;)

It’s a fun place on a Thursday or Friday night, but I’m not exactly sure what they’re grilling. 15 year old kids that try to get in using their library card?

Unilocal! says it best… «Eek! Methinks not!»
I honestly thought that I was going to make it through my college career without having to step foot in The Palms, but when our annual architecture school soirée ended up here, I couldn’t help myself. Oh lawdy, why oh why, The Palms?
The place could hardly be called a «grill», and the bar is dark, musty-​smelling, and the music is far too loud. The only good thing about the place was the pool table, which we spent the whole hour and a half standing around.
It should come as no surprise that the party ended early, and moved to Brunos Bar & Tavern– a much more savory location!

This used to be Waldo’s. They have heads/​tails night on Friday where you can flip a quarter and call it and if you get it right you drink free. Very much a Tulane hangout bar and seems to be more for earlier drinking.

The Palms is a complete dive bar, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But this has to be the nastiest dive bar in the city. Even the Christmas Lounge, which is practically a shed with a tarp over it, is nicer than this place. They apparently seldom mop the floors, as you hear a gross sticky sound every step you take. The bathrooms are particularly bad in that respect, except the source of the stickiness on the floor is not spilled beer, but something else! So make you you DO NOT wear sandals!
Lastly, the bouncer is more likely to create a scene and pick a fight with a potential customer than he is to keep order.