The bar is Pacific Standard, now closed. But if there's one thing that lives on in this neighborhood, it's the adjacent gym culture. Brooklyn Boulders, SBWC (my former lifting gym), Body Reserve (same, and RIP), a few Crossfits and... a fencing school? Never living here, I spent years crossing the park by bike, foot and subway, walking among the Joshes and the Chads and coming to regard them as my brethren. (They're mostly nerds.)
I've kind of shifted my views on pickup culture - it all sits weird with me now. I know I've already talked about it; in short I think it comes down to class way more than gender, the former of which is hidden, by necessity, in neoliberal feminist discourse. At any rate this was a joke setup for something even more specific to that discourse - that a man's epiphany is more palatable than a woman's wisdom. And that's probably true, but not a subject I give much consideration anymore. It was a joke of its time and place. Story-wise the intention was to give Marigold an understated entrance, and then clear out the room, which the joke does cleanly.