So one of the lessons learned, actually remembered is probably better terminology, while adventuring is that US bars serve booze in a way designed to knock an elephant off it’s trunk in one sip.
Now the art of drinking, remaining upright, joyous and conversational is one that, a few minor incidents aside, is one that I’m fairly well practiced in. I’ve been Valedictorian at the Veuve Cliquot Championships, Petron’s People’s Choice Winner, Wild Turkey’s Top Turkey and labeled Cognac Mack by Hennessey but not even this number of alcoholic accolades had me prepared.
One shot from a drag queen’s fountain on bar crawl in Hell’s Kitchen saw the rest of the night spin and blur by, kind of like a ride on an absinthe roller coaster.
It started at late night Sushi Bar Bamboo 52 with a spider roll, cocktails and shots of Petron and as with any good Sushi Bar, drag queens, including the wonderful Sherry Vine. A relatively civilized beginning I might add but actually only as I write this do I remember this detail.
We then stumbled across the road to Industry which actually reminded me of a typical Sydney gaybar and from here it’s a free pour bourbon blur.
Shots from the drag queen’s ice fountain , bars with boys in short shorts giving out shots…. FOR FREE (I think) and me almost unable to speak… except to of course say “more” (I think).
I can safely say I went to Hell’s Kitchen though, thanks to the US style of free pour alcohol where drinks are served with literally a splash of mixer, especially if the bar staff like you, I can’t really tell you where it is or what it’s like…
The 3am (I think) subway ride back to Brooklyn was a hoot as we luckily met a bunch of girls tipsy toasted as we were and the words hot mess came to mind the next morning…
It was only after this night that it occurred to me why on my first night, fresh off the plane, i was so goddam drunk. Stumbling from the spunky leather boy crowd at The Eagle to the fantastic filth of The Cock with it’s (only just) jockstrap clad go go dancers nearly knocking people out with what they were (only just) packing. I was also a little surprised, thrilled and amused at this place, and yes i may have slipped a tip or two….just for a laugh and to be in the spirit. That first night as I tried conversing through my accent, the music and my vodka tongue I thought it was jetlag… o no, booze poured long enough to knock even the most well practiced queen off her heels was at work.
The free pour also explains why i was singing at broadway bars on times square and in the west village…. i know better than to sing in public but that is another story for another post.
With this knowledge a) I’m thankful there’s no photos to speak of and b) I was prepared for more with the one time lesson of less is more… it felt like a strange motto coming from me, esp in a town like NY (and no, of course I didn’t stick to it)
Break out the Butter, I’ll be back real soon.
Todays toast is served soaked in your favourite liquer.