Emma G.
Yelp
I am not Howl at the Moon's target audience, so keep that in mind going forward. My ideal booze night on the town involves either an off-the-charts dingy dive bar with lawn chairs or a hipster mixologist pouring me egg white cocktails. This is not that by any stretch. Who is their target audience? Based on a quick glance at the drink menu, a 21-year-old female who celebrated their birthday within the past week and still thinks a literal bucket of rum is an ideal beverage. If that sounds like you, then this is your place.
I ended up at Howl at the Moon on a Friday night for a noble chum's Womb Exit Anniversary. It was a group of about 13 people, and we were there for roughly 3 1/2 hours from 9:30ish to 1am. (I took a nap beforehand and slept for nine hours the next night, otherwise I don't know how I would have functioned in society in the near term - again, not my jam). Several members of our party had been there before including the guest of honor. All of them were noticeably surprised at how empty it was. When we got there, I'd guess there were MAYBE 20 other people in a pretty large space that accommodates musical acts, dancing, etc. I liked that you could comfortably roam around and hear what the people near you were actually saying, but I may have been in the minority on that one.
Let me address the positives here first, since unfortunately it won't take long. If you make a little bit of an effort beforehand on social media, you can "win" a decent deal where they waive the cover (which I was told beforehand would likely be $5 or $10), and you get drink tickets for two beverages at a cost of around $1.50 each. That strikes me as shrewd marketing, and a win-win for both parties - the customer has more incentive to come in and hang out for a while, and the venue likely more than makes up for the discount by the end of the evening. The other pro is the live music; a piano was front and center, and the musicians were playing a lot of pleasant tunes. And since it WAS centered on the piano, it wasn't Jersey Shore discotech shizzle that makes me dry heave.
The negatives outweighed the positives for me. I decided to go with a peanut butter old fashioned, the first item listed on the cocktail menu. I was told that they were out of the peanut butter whiskey. Not a huge deal, but on a Friday night, I think you should have the inventory for the handful of special cocktails you're promoting. Instead, I went with the Kentucky Peach (I believe $12 or so), which had bourbon, peach puree, lemon sour and soda. Easily one of the worst drinks I've ever had. None of the ingredients were even marginally mixed, so depending on where your straw was in the glass when you began sucking, you'd either end up with nothing but bourbon, or nothing but sugar. That strikes me as just basic bartending 101.
One of my compatriots came with me for the drink order and ALSO tried to order two specific cocktails (Pink Paradise and Hot Girl Summer) and was told they didn't have the requisite ingredients. He then informed her there were only two or three cocktails they could make and was a little rude when she suggested that he just make her a vodka cran. His curt answer was, "I already told you I can't." It wasn't as quiet as a library in there, so maybe there was a little lost in translation going on, but he did come across as defensive to me, and frankly if you work in a bar or any louder environment, you make the effort to ensure everyone understands you.
The bathroom situation rubbed me the wrong way. First of all, the layout is just poor - the toilet seat in my stall was partly under the toilet paper dispenser, so it's super cramped and I'm surprised that they don't have incidents where customers partially miss the toilet bowl. (Maybe they do, but I'm willing to remain ignorant on that point.) The bigger issue for me was that they had a completely needless bathroom attendant. This is not a classy French restaurant or something - they're literally selling plastic buckets of alcohol. I don't need someone in a hoodie handing me paper towels and squirting cheap liquid soap in my hands. That just strikes me as a shameless cash grab. They also had candy in there, which might have been the most unappetizing optic of the evening. I have never had a desire to eat a Reeses next to a toilet.
The pregame festivities at my chum's sister's house featured a bottle of Sutter Home Pinot Grigio, which was WAY better than anything I paid for at Howl. I'd recommend stopping by the liquor store for that instead of schlepping to a bar that was lacking in alcohol options and customer service. The guest of honor had a great time though, so that's ultimately what matters.