The Pinch Bar

I tend to spend most of my time in the Village when I'm in NYC. I usually walk around in random directions, wandering into the less-traveled nooks and crannies of the city, looking to discover places I've never been to before.

I believe I was on Sullivan Street, pretty close to Washington Square Park when I took this. Over to the left is The Pinch Bar, by the flag. Unfortunately, I don't know how to upload the picture in its original size, so it's tough to see the place with the photo at this size.

I have no idea if the place is still open, or if the locals even like the place, but I had a good time there. From what I remember, I really liked the ambiance. Then again, I was already three sheets to the wind by the time I got there, so I suspect I would've been happy anywhere, so long as they served alcohol.

I do recall being late meeting my friends there on the night I went.

When I got there, everyone within earshot had already become fast friends, apparently -- because the girl I sat next to already had a big, smiling grin on her face as if she knew my life's story.

"You're late!" she said.

I don't know what it is about alcohol, but it tends to induce people to raise their voices a few decibels for no apparent reason.

Without missing a beat, I playfully respond, "Welp, you may not know this about me yet honey, but that's kinda what I do..."

She laughs, "Is that so?!"

I give her my finest, charming smile.

"Aye, lass!"

I turn to the bartender with an eyebrow raised, shrugging my shoulders with my hands up, "What can ya do, fuggetaboutit..."

You know you've had too many drinks when you mix Irish and Italian accents within seconds of each other.

The bartender being on the ball says, "Soooo, you're saying you need a double then, aye?"

Considering the fact that I was well on my way to oblivion, I raise my voice a few decibels and gleefully respond, "Finally! Someone who understands me!"

"Cap'n Coke, please!"

From that point on, it's a bit of a blur...but I know we all had a great time.

Sigh. New York City. How I miss her so...

The Tubesteak Vegan

Having drinks during happy hour with friends is always entertaining. It's amazing what a few libations will do to a person.

I recently found myself getting inebriated with a few co-workers I've known for a few years, along with a few that were hired just before the economy tanked.

Depending on my mood, I can either be a voyeur, watching people and listening to them ramble on incoherantly, or sometimes I'll contribute my own special brand of drivel to the conversation.

I'm an equal opportunity driveler, so the extent of my ramblings will typically depend on whichever of the ten different conversations I happen to be paying attention to in that moment.

After about 5-6 drinks, it can get tough to follow it all. It takes talent to keep up with drunken blathering. It's almost like learning another language. But the topics of conversation and everyone's contributions to them definitely tend to get more amusing as the night progresses.

I myself was in the mood for red wine. I prefer to only drink red wine. I'm a red wine snob. Actually, I mostly drink Cabernet if I can help it. I'm also a Cabernet snob. Sue me.

So I was on my 4th glass, feeling good and feeling loose. I found myself joining a conversation between one of the recently hired guys, Chris, and a few of my long-time buddies.

They were talking about work, but they were acting way too jovial for it to have been a serious conversation -- so naturally, I joined in.

Already slurring, I interject, "You see Chris..."
I take a swallow of my drink, "Coming to work wasted is frowned upon..."

I pause for effect, then continue...
"But also lovingly embraced."

With the sound of chuckles in the background, he replies, "then I'm gonna love working there!"

Our friend John Sullivan, aka Johnny Two Times, aka Johnny Luva joins in and continues laying down our tongue-in-cheek version of the workplace rules:

"When you're in a meeting," he says, "and there is a call for feedback or questions, lean back in your chair, prop your feet up on the table, smile contentedly, and say, 'Well, here's the way I see it, J.B...'"

He sticks his finger in his ear as if he's digging for gold, takes it out, looks at his finger and continues..."No one really gives a fuck about what you want us to do anymore. Everyone's just gonna do what they want. And any further complaints can be directed to my ass."

The table erupts in loud, obnoxious, creepy man-laughter.

He then adds, "but after that you have to smile, look at the person next to you as if everything's normal, and ask...'that's how you wanted me to say it, right?'"

More drunken chuckles ensue.

I turn my head to the left to see what the girls are talking about, and take another swallow of my drink just in time to hear Suzie tell Kathy, "You've had way too much cock in your mouth to be vegan."

My wine nearly came out my nose as I laughed uncontrollably while in the midst of swallowing it. The girls laugh as I regain my composure, when I mimick Ben Affleck's character from Good Will Hunting and say, "speaking of tubesteak Kathy, why didn't you give me none of that nasty little hoochie woochie you usually throw at me?"

Without missing a beat she replies with the right line from the movie, "Oh fuck you and your Irish curse Chuckie!"

Kathy and I are always quoting the movie, which usually starts a domino effect of movie quotes for the rest of the night.

Randomly going back to what caught my attention, I ask, "So what's with the vegan thing?"

"Well, my sister is vegan and she was explaining it all to me, so I was thinking about becoming vegan too," she says.

"Seriously?!" I say, with a smirking, skeptical look on my face. "Not for nothin', but as much as you love the tubesteak, no one loves a juicy filet mignon more than you. You invite us over to grill steaks every week for christsake!"

She says, "Yeah, the whole giving up meat thing is the problem. And the cheese. And the pork. And the..."

More group laughter.

"No seriously. I'm gonna do it though!"

"I bet you fifty bucks you'll be eating steak again in two weeks," I said.

She replies, "You're on biatch!"

As it turns out...I got my fifty bucks today.

Then I took Kathy to Outback Steakhouse for a big, juicy Porterhouse steak.

And I used the fifty bucks to pay for dinner.

No word yet on whether or not she gave up tubesteak.