Patrick D.
Yelp
Living in Manhattan, I've become accustomed to having certain privileges. Cab always available, a terrific steak dinner in midtown, enough lawyers and doctors to date that I might actually be able to pay my student loan debt, and upscale bars with fantastic mood lighting.
Nowhere Bar has none of these things.
I had been sitting at home on Sunday night, relaxing after a long day, reading my book when my phone rang and one of my fabulous friends invited me out for drinks at this bar. Thus a 20 minute cab ride later, I was walking into this seedy dark establishment. Tonight...I was slumming it.
The decor of the place was "dormitory chic". Shredded toilet paper was strewn all over the floor in small piles, as well as hung from the ceiling in streamers. Apparently, this was in the event that the bathroom was in use, you could just make on the floor and wipe up.
My friend was waiting patiently in the corner, and ordered me a cider beer. The cost? $5, which for NYC is really not that expensive. Unfortunately, the cost of those beers change depending on the bartender, as the younger bartender charged us only $3 for the same drink. Nothing turns me on more than a bartender with bad math skills...and this man was on the road to marrying me.
Sunday night, was drunk college student night, but honestly, I have the distinct feeling that every night in this bar is drunk college student night. Not that I have anything against that, but at the age of *ahem* 37 (yes...I'm admitting it), I'm a little beyond worrying how I'm going to get my term paper done after consuming several cocktails. I'm more concerned how my 401k is going to survive a downturn in the economy.
The "party" of the night had something to do with drunk hippy guys, because the man who kept getting on the microphone had not seen a bar of soap or a pair of scissors in many, many, many, MANY months! In fact, If he hadn't been all of 23 years old, I would have considered him to be a close friend of my mother's from her Woodstock days. I kept thinking I had fallen into a remake of the movie "hair"...a really bad remake.
And just like in the movie, we had nudity. The host of the bar made an announcement. "Come up to the bar and show me your dick, asshole, or extended vaginal lips and you'll get a free shot!"
First of all...as a gay man, I have no clue what "extended vaginal lips" are...and I don't think I want to know. And the idea of drinking an unknown shot in a college bar, while they were attempting to solicit for the amateur strip show, was probably not a good idea on my part. I've been known to do things I shouldn't after drinking a few too many drinks. But as the cocktail waiter approached me, and asked me to expose myself, I couldn't resist. It isn't like I've not shown it to anyone before. Hell...I been known to email a picture on request. So yes...I dropped my pants for the "mystery drink".
So today...two days later, my hangover finally subsiding I've learned some things.
1) I'm not in my 20's anymore.
2) No matter how free the shot...never drink cheap tequila.
3) Future rich husbands do not hang out at dive bars.
4) Cabs rarely stop in the East Village to pick up drunk people wanting to go home.