Tag Archives: bar

#945: Cry over spilled beer

When I was younger, my parents gave me a beautifully designed book for Easter. I brought it to school one day and I don’t remember the exact circumstances–whether I had it out in the rain, or dropped it in a puddle, or both–but it got soaked.

My mom dried it out, but the pages were forever crinkled, the cover a bit warped. I treasured it even more after that because I felt so terrible that it had gone through such an ordeal. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on April 15, 2017 in Books


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#927: Upstairs at Ryan’s Daughter

This bar is, at its core, a symbol of nostalgia for me.

It represents the time in my life when many of my friends lived in the same neighborhood. It plays the part of an old familiar watering hole that may not have really been that special but seems that way because of its reliability. Because it wasn’t as full of frat boys as the other bars. Because it always has free potato chips.

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Posted by on January 1, 2017 in NYC


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#895: Troy Liquor Bar

It’s in the Meatpacking District, which is all you need to know if you live in New York. If you don’t, I will tell you a bit more.

It’s in a basement, and it’s trying to be cool as opposed to just being cool. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on May 28, 2016 in NYC


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#799: Drink a negroni

Ever since I read a piece about it online, years ago, I’ve wanted to try a negroni.

(I believe it was on The Awl, or a similar site, but the only thing that comes up when you google “negroni” and “awl” is this Negroni Season essay, and I can’t understand how that would have been the thing to inspire me to sample the drink.  In my memory, whatever I read was smooth and cool and romantic…but then, if you know me, you might think this piece is more suited for me than any of those words anyway, so.)

Because I thought of it as something casually elegant and subtly sophisticated, I was waiting for the perfect moment to drink a negroni. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on May 27, 2015 in Food/Drink


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#773: Cobra Club

When I took the “What Bushwick bar are you?” quiz a while ago (because why wouldn’t I want to know that?), I got Cobra Club.

So I knew it was only a matter of time before I ended up there.  And “end up” I did.  After stopping at 2 other bars so far out in Brooklyn they’re actually in Queens, we wound up at this place that is apparently a coffee shop during the day and a bar at night, complete with karaoke.

I didn’t stay long, so unfortunately I didn’t get to discover all the ways I am like this bar–or, sorry, I mean, am this bar.  However, the bartender was nice and they only have 2 bathrooms, neither of which very strongly reflects me. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on April 12, 2015 in NYC


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#766: Bronx Alehouse

One of the reasons this winter seems so bitter–nothing like the snow in Boston or the cold in Cleveland, but bad enough for fragile New Yorkers–is because the MTA is under practically system-wide construction every weekend.

So a trip to Bronx Alehouse that should have entailed an hour ride on 2 trains from my place actually took an hour and a half on 2 trains, one of which was running local and also auditioning for a Speed spin-off where a bomb will go off if the train goes above 15 mph, and then an Uber ride since the train with a stop right next to the bar wasn’t running at all.

Normally I’m not someone who shies away from experimenting with just how far you can go on the subway, but when there’s construction and snow on a Saturday, staying home is a tempting option. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on February 22, 2015 in Food/Drink


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#764: Read Bukowski

The first time I wanted to read Bukowski was when I discovered a bar named Bukowski Tavern in Boston during college.  I never went there–I think because (aside from the fact that I wasn’t legally able to until my last year in the city) I hadn’t read anything by its namesake and thought I should at least know something about his writing before frequenting the bar, a notion that seems silly now and probably seemed silly back then as well–but I always wanted to.

The second time I wanted to read Bukowski was when I discovered the Modest Mouse song, “Bukowski,” also in Boston during college.  It wasn’t so much that I loved the song–there were a few from that band I liked better–but it was somehow all caught up with the bar and the mysterious author I hadn’t read, and so it fueled my desire to read his stuff even more.

The third time I wanted to read Bukowski was ever since, whenever I would nostalgically think of that bar, and that song, and wonder why I never got around to reading anything by that guy.   Read the rest of this entry »


Posted by on February 18, 2015 in Books


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