Day 40—Thursday, February 18th
Niles
I thought tonight I’d start something new that I’m going to do every once in a while. Instead of looking for a cool or different type of bar, I’m going to go to one that you should avoid like the plague. There’s at least a couple thousand bars in Manhattan, so you don’t need to be wasting your time in a watered-down watering hole. Every week or so, I’m going to do a posting I’m calling, “Why the fuck would anyone waste their time or money in this fucking shithole?”
Location is an important factor in New York. I work real close to Penn Station and Madison Square Garden and you want to avoid the bars in this area like a pus-riddled, syphilitic vagina. They’re all boring, overpriced and packed with enough assholes to make even one beer in any of these joints unbearable. Or should I say unbeerable?
There’s a whole strip of worthless cookie-cutter bars around where I work, but the one I hate the most is a bar called Niles. It’s right around the corner and whenever there is an afterwork get together, they usually happen at this place. I don’t go to these anymore because I work nights and by the time I get there everyone is shitfaced and it’s not much of a picnic walking into a scene like that. I remember one of the last one’s I went to and it was really bad. I walked up to the bar and—I don’t want to call anyone out on the carpet, so let’s just call this guy, “Frank”—Frank was stumbling in front of the bar. I remember being amazed he was so fucked up and after I said hi to him he put his arm around me and then in 100 proof breath shouted/slurred in my ear, “There’s a story in there!”
Oh there was a story in there alright, it was the story of about half a dozen of my co-workers who were so shitfaced they would never remember seeing me in there the next day. I walked in and—again, I’m going to be discreet here, because I don’t want to embarass anyone and this guy has generously donated to this site, so let’s just call him, “Happy Cappy”—Happy Cappy jumps on me and starts humping me from behind like we’re having man on man, co-worker sex. And it was all downhill from there. And you know when it goes downhill from being dry-humped by a co-worker, it’s pretty motherfucking bad. So I just don’t go anymore.
Anyway, I’m going to punch out now and we’ll walk around the block and into a place where we’ll wonder, “Why the fuck would anyone waste their time or money in this fucking shithole?”
Why the fuck would anyone waste their time or money in this fucking shithole? Episode One.
Here we are at Niles. You can only see the silhouette of this jerkoff, but he's actuallywearing an ascot! Get back to Bumblefuck, Idaho, asshole!
It's really fucking bright in here and any seasoned tavern traveler knows that bars should be dark. You're trying to pick up drunken people that you don't want to see in the morning, so no one needs brightness in this equation.
The bartenders are nice guys in here but...
They charge seven motherfucking dollars for a bottle of Budweiser in this place! Seven bucks for a bottle of Bud? Hey Bartender, I'm having a "Full Metal Jacket" moment here as I want to ask you why you don't have the common courtesy to give me a reach around while you're fucking me up the ass!
It’s louder than fuckall in here. They keep the music at level so everyone has to shout and it’s impossible to hear in here. Plus the music sucks. Do you know what’s playing right now? “Old Time Rock ‘N’ Roll” by Bob Seger. Do you know why Bob Seger likes the old time rock ‘n’ roll? Because he’s about 87-years-old! I’ve always hated this guy and the one song of his that kills me is, “Turn The Page.” It’s a song about how tough it is being out "on the road.” Gee, I really feel sorry for you Bob! I'll tell you what, instead of going out "on the road," how about we trade places. You can come and work my second shift job and catch shit from everyone and their brother's sister and I'll go out "on the road" and suffer through having to fly first class to four star hotels to working 90 minutes a night singing inane shit about old time rock and roll and then going back to the four star hotel and ordering expensive room service and drinks while some shit-faced groupie slobbers all over my knob. Yes, I'm willing to do this for you, Bob. Have your people call my people and then take that old music off the shelf and shove it directly up your ass.
Check out Niles website: Niles Bullshit Bar. You can see the menu for this place there. One of the items is a cheese plate for two. It costs 15 bucks! Fifteen dollars for a plate of cheese? For that kind of money I could buy a case of Velveeta and a crack whore to give me a reach around.
Speaking of the menu, they have a children's menu at this place. I HATE bars that encourage people to bring their demon seeds along. Bars are no place for kids. Everytime I see someone bring their fucking kids to a bar I want to get the name of their children's nusery school so I can show up with a twelve pack and a fifth of rock gut whiskey and throw up all over the class while performing my own version of "Show and Smell." This drunken tourist just stepped in between me and my beer and has been negotiating his tab for about five minutes with the bartender. Hi asshole!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, so they've got Andy Richter and Lou Reed's high school jersey's on display, big fucking deal. I'm never coming back and I wonder...“Why the fuck would anyone waste their time or money in this fucking shithole?” Goodnight everybody!
Review
Don’t go here. They charge seven bucks for a motherfucking bottle of Bud and don’t have the common courtesy to give you a reach around. And they charge fifteen bucks for a plate of cheese! Moe, Larry...cheese!
Niles
371 7th Avenue (Right in the heart of assholeville)
212-290-2460