Saturday, September 11th, 2010—Bar 244

Day 244—Friday, September 10th, 2010
The Bubble Lounge
I just got the following email from someone who wishes to be anonymous: “I found your website from EV Grieve and you should check out the Bubble Lounge. A chill cocktail place that’s a little different from your usual bar. Keep up the good work, your blog is a lot of fun!” I want to thank EV Grieve for posting the 365 post and it’s Friday and I never know where to go, so what the hell, it’s off to the Bubble Lounge we go!

And here it is, The Bubble lounge in all it's bubblyness.

Check out the logo on the sidewalk.

If you smoke, there's two comfortable chairs outside and a table with an ashtray, nice!

As you enter there's a long, shotgun styled candle-lit lounge area with a comfortable couch, chairs and cushions.

Here's the bar area and there's seats at the bar! On a Friday, let's grab one while we can.

The bartender was a nice guy, but a little shy and didn't want his picture taken, but he did agree to this. I think he's got a future as a hand model, what do you think?

I got one of the signature cocktails, The California Dream. It was delicious, cheers!

Peter and Sean were seated next to me at the bar and were a couple of nice guys who were interested in the whole 365 concept.

Here's the back lounge area. I'm taking all photos without a flash tonight because it's kind of intimate in here and I don't want to ruin the mood for anyone.

Here's a shot of the bar where I'm sitting.

Here's John, who's a friend of Peter and Sean's. He came up to take them to a private party that was going on downstairs. Have fun, guys!

A long shot of the top of the bar.

Frank and Stacey took Sean and Peter's seats at the end of the bar. Hello Frank and Stacey!

Champagne glasses on the wall...

And one in real life. Sandeep enjoys one of the many varieties of champagne available at the lounge.

Wow, it's getting packed in here, time for me to vamoose.

There was a subway station nearby and as I made my way towards the tracks: Blammo! A train was pulling in. What luck!

Is that guy on the right flipping me off?

Oh well, whatever. Goodnight, everybody!

Review
The Bubble Lounge is an upscale lounge in Tribeca that prides itself on a large variety of champagne. There’s a low-lit lounge in front with padded couches and chairs and candle=lit tables. The small bar is in the back with another lounge area opposite and in the back. The scene is mainly after work and neighborhood singles looking to hook up over a glass or two of bubbly or one of their signature cocktails.

Bubble Lounge calls itself, "New York's premier champagne salon," and it backs up that boast by having over 300 champagne’s in the house at any given time. In addition to the vintage and non-vintage champagne, Bubble Lounge has a full bar with 10 martinis and signature cocktails such as: Raspberry Caipirinha, Brazilian Sangria, Bubbly Margarita on the Rocks and the California Dream which mixes Christiania Vodka, Blood Orange Puree, Lime Juice Elderflower Syrup, Pineapple Puree and Crème de Gingembre.

They also have a food menu with a variety of cheeses and some of the small plates to choose from include: Mini Black Truffle Baked Potatoes, Mini Ahi Tuna Burger, Smoked Salmon on Toast Points and Sweet Garlic Stuffed Duck Meatballs served a Demi-Glace Sauce.

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble!

The Bubble Lounge
228 West Broadway (Near White St.)
212-431-3433

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Bonus Column from my book, “The Boy Who Would Be A Fire Truck.”

The Weird Day When the Sky Went Brown

I’ve seen the sky in many colors, various shades of blue, gray, black, purple, but up to that day, I had never seen the sky the color of brown. It kind of made me feel sick in a weird, Twilight Zone William-Shatner-see-a-monster-on-the-airplane’s wing-kind of way. And it was a grotesque brown color; it looked like Satan had vomited a stomach full of Yoo-Hoo all over the Manhattan  skyline. After a couple of minutes of staring at this stomach-turning mess of a sky, I turned around and looked uptown and the sky was blue. Then I turned back around, looked downtown and the sky was still brown. It was really weird. Like some kind of a whacked-out nursery rhyme: Downtown brown / uptown blue /  knick knack paddywhack / give the dog some glue.

The day started weird and just got weirder and more sickening as the minutes turned into hours and the brown day careened into a purple-black night. The day had started with a strange series of clicks emanating from my phone.
    
I work nights so I have a schedule that’s opposite of most people—I keep Elvis hours, I sleep in the day and wake up in the afternoon—so I always keep the ringer on my phone off and turn the volume on my phone answering machine all the way down. So while I never hear the phone ring or the messages people leave, you can hear a click when someone calls. On this day, just as I was falling off to dreamland, I heard my first click.

“Weird,” I thought, “I wonder who’s calling me at this hour?” Then I started to drift off to slumberland once again.

Then another click.

Then another.

And another. Another one. Anotheranotheranotheranotheranotheranother. Click. Click. Clickclickclickclickclick. Click. Clickityclickclickclick. Clickclickclickclickclick. Clickclick. Clickclickclickityclickclickclickclick. Clickclickclick. CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.

This went on for a while. I’d just about be asleep and then another series of clicks would rattle off like a hyperactive machine gun spraying wake up dust all over my kingdom of sleep. Finally, even though I was dreary-eyed tired, I got up, scaled down the ladder attached to my loft bed, and stumbled over to the phone answering machine. The little red light on the grey and silver rectangular machine was blinking in a hyperactive fashion. It was about 1:30 in the afternoon.

“Who the fuck is calling me,” I said to myself as I turned the volume up on the answering machine and hit Play.

Now this is where the weirdness really kicks in to a nerve-rattling gear. I’ve never had so many messages on my phone machine in my life and I didn’t understand a single one of them.


BEEEEP—“Hey, Marty, this is Tom, just calling to make sure you’re okay, call me when you get a chance.”—BEEEEP.

Tom is my older brother, who lives in New Jersey.

“Why in the fuck is he calling to see if I’m okay at this hour?” I wondered. Then:

BEEEEP—“Dude, it’s Alex, I rode my bike over the Brooklyn Bridge. I saw the people jumping out of the buildings, call me when you can. I’m drinking already.”—BEEEEP

“Huh?” Alex is one of my best friends, who used to live in Brooklyn.

“People jumping out of buildings?” I thought to myself. I was starting to feel like you do when you’ve smoked too much pot and start jumping out of your skin as paranoia strikes deep. And with every message, I was feeling more and more creeped out.

There were messages from everybody in my family, almost everybody I know in New York, and messages from old friends from my hometown of Peoria, Illinois. And they all were pretty much the same: “Are you okay?...call when you get a chance...are you all right?...we want to make sure you’re okay....”

Nobody said what had happened. Everybody sounded weird and more than one person was crying. I was starting to imagine apocalypse. Now.

Finally, after I listened to all of them, I looked at my window and wondered what in the fucking hell was lurking out there. I keep black construction paper taped over the two small windows in my apartment to keep the sunlight out (Elvis hours and all) and for a couple of sickening minutes I just stared at my black windows and trying to imagine the horror that was happening on the other side. Finally I walked over to the door that leads to the roof overhang and slowly and carefully opened it up and poked my head out like a turtle coming out of his shell. When I looked outside, I was shocked.

Everything looked normal.

I looked outside and nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Sure, I heard some sirens, but that’s standard operating procedure for New York City. The sun was shining brightly, the sky was bright blue and was dotted with white fluffy clouds. A bird flew overhead and a warm breeze hit my face. Maybe Hell wasn’t hiccuping after all.

Then  I shut the door and turned on the TV.

I can’t remember which station it was, but I remember looking at the screen, seeing planes flying into buildings and people with horrific zombielike faces running away in big crowds from giant dust clouds. My jaw dropped and I grabbed my stomach. It kind of looked like New York and I instinctively and quickly turned the channel, somehow hoping that would make this go away.

It didn’t.

After I watched the TV and figured out what happened I went outsid to the street, looked downtown and saw the brown sky. I should’ve walked away from it, but I wasn’t thinking clearly and started to walk towards it.

Throngs of people were walking like zombies towards the brown sky. Before I knew  it, I had joined this lemminglike parade. Regular traffic was shut off after 14th Street, so it got increasingly surreal the closer I got. No cars except cop cars, helicopters buzzing overhead, a brown sky, people walking willy-nilly in every direction, everybody with a dazed how-could-this-happen look plastered on their puss. Some people were openly weeping. Army men with guns dotted every street. Cops were all over the place. TV cameras and the talking heads from all of the news channels were blithering and blathering on every other corner. It was chaos. I got pretty close and then decided I really didn’t want to be down there anymore. What I wanted was a beer, so I turned around and started walking towards the blue side of the city. It probably wasn’t normal anymore either, but it had to beat the brown side of town.

I wandered to many bars that afternoon and evening. The atmosphere in the bars was weird. They were all filled with people drinking in almost total silence while staring obsessively at CNN on the television sets. I finished the night off at a bar called the Stoned Crow drinking beer after silent beer while watching the TV people endlessly replay the tape of the planes flying into the buildings. On my way home, I bought a six-pack from a Korean deli. The little fiftysomething Korean man behind the counter took my money and put the beer in a paper bag. After he gave me my change, he touched my arm as I grabbed the bag and said, “You be safe, okay?” I looked at him and nodded, I couldn't talk because I felt like I was going to start crying. I remember wondering if I was going nuts.

When I got back to my studio apartment on 16th Street, I opened a can of beer and looked at the round plastic clock hanging on my wall. It was 12:24. The day was officially over. I felt a small speck of relief washing over me. I took a long gulp from the 16-ounce can of Budweiser and thought to myself, “Jesus, what a weird fucking day.”

Thursday, July 29th, 2010—Bar 200

Day 200—Wednesday, July 28th, 2010
Puffy’s Tavern
Ding, ding, ding, the PayPal donation bell is ringing! Nick Beal who recommended yesterday’s bar and lost a loosely placed bet sent in a generous donation of 15 dollars and said in an email that it was: “To cover the bet and a little extra.” Thanks so much, Nick, the bet was a bit of a joke, but I appreciate the donation and look forward to having another drink with you on the bar crawl in the future.

Tonight’s a big night, the 200th motherfucking bar! I racked my brain on where to go and the problem is I’ve used up most of the iconic New York bars, like McSorley’s, Pete’s Tavern, Whitehorse, etc. I decided a fitting place for this night would just be a bar that’s just a bar. No beer pong, no DJ’s, no frat boys or girls, no hipsters, no Buck Hunter, no gimmicks, frills or bullshit, just a nice unpretentious bar to hang out in and celebrate the night. Well, these kinds of places are getting harder and harder to find. But I found one. It’s called Puffy’s Tavern and it looks like a nice old school joint, located in the Tribeca area. The bill themselves as “of the friendliest establishments you will find.” Let’s go see just how friendly they are.

Here we are, Puffy's Tavern in the heart of Tribeca.

Wow, nice, well worn bar.

And the ceiling is tin, you know this is the place for the 200th stop.

And Travis the bartender serves up an ice cold Red Stripe. Travis was a great bartender and I had a nice conversation with him with topics ranging from punk rock to writing to movies to the decay of our culture from the Jersey Shore people to Lindsay Lohan. Travis is the perfect bartender for this place. And he's also a graphic designer and artist. One of his talents is tattoo designs, so if you'd like a quote on a design, stop by Puffy's and discuss it with Travis.

Number 200! 165 to go.

Here's another look at the bar. I like the old school bar chairs.

Tables and a wooden banquette line the wall opposite the bar.

I like the art on the brick wall with the single illumination from the hanging bulb. It brings a nice bohemian flavor to the tavern.

A vintage checkerboard table goes along nicely with the mosaic tiled floor.

And it's a family affair night in Puffy's Tavern. Here's Travis with his brother Lionel, who was on the other side of the bar.

And to complete the picture, here's Travis and Lionel with their mom (I thought she was their sister) Tina. Tina is a personal chef specializing in vegetarian and therapeutic diets. She serves in Manhattan and Brooklyn and if you'd like more information, you can email her at: Tina Struble, Personal Chef.

Business Card Drop Box?

If I win you're all invited.

And here's the obligatory "Dan Smith Will Teach You Guitar" ad on the bulletin board. Hey, what's that drawing there?

It's a drawing of writer Nick Tosches by Travis. Nick stops by the bar occasionally and Travis did this fine portrait of him. Sorry for the fuzzy quality, but my camera's no good at close-up shots. My guess is that Nick would enjoy the fuzziness though.

There's a grade-A dart board in the back and the bar sponsors dart leagues.

I asked Travis for a special drink to commemorate the 200th stop of the 365 Bar Crawl and he mixed me up his original Bloody Mary.

Okay, this is the best and most unique Bloody Mary I've ever had. Lots of spices and heat and it's topped off with a shot of Guinness. Genius drink and a perfect way to cap off night 200.

A parting glance out the window before I leave and close out the 200th night. Cheers to Travis, his mom and brother and to all of you for following me on this journey! I appreciate you sticking with the 365 travelings! Goodnight, everybody!

Review
Sometimes you just want to go to a bar. No frills, no chills, no daffodils. Puffy’s Tavern is that place. It’s a joint, a place to enjoy a cold drink and not have to shout out the order because the DJ is blaring some ironic ‘80’s song that is shredding your ear drums and frat boys and girls are drinking sugary shot bombs in between beer pong. Happy hour can be a little crazy in here, but outside of that it’s a chill, old school joint that’s been on the block for years, with friendly bartenders and local cliental. You may recognize the bar upon entering as its been used in numerous TV shows and movies including Law and Order and State of Grace among others.

Puffy’s has a full bar and serves some specialty drinks that they serve with their own unique twist including a Gin Limonata, Passion Fruit Lemonade, a Mojito and I can recommend Travis’ Bloody Mary with the Guinness topper. If your tastes run towards the sudsier side of the bar, there’s a decent selection of draft and bottled beer including: Bass Ale, Hoegaarden, Stella and Guinness on tap. Sierra Nevada, Sam Adams Lager, Heineken and Theakston's Old Peculiar are four of the twelve bottled beers behind the bar. There’s also a decent wine list and well drinks go for seven bucks a pop. The happy hour runs from 11:30am to 8:00pm with various drink specials during different hours.

From 11:30am to 5:00pm they serve a dozen different Italian sandwiches served on your choice of bakery fresh bread. Some of the sandwiches include: the Pavarotti which is salami, smoked mozzarella, sundried tomatoes, artichokes and sweet peppers, the Fellini which consists of sopressata, fresh mozzarella, hot peppers, arugula and the Americano which is a nice combination of smoked chicken, sliced vine tomato, arugula, mayonnaise. The sandwiches run between seven to ten bucks and are a meal unto itself. There’s also bar snacks such as boneless chicken wings, pizza, onion rings and jalapeño and cheddar cheese poppers.

Pull  up a stool and enjoy one of the friendliest establishments you’ll ever find. They didn’t lie in their boast!

Puffy’s Tavern
81 Hudson St. (Near Harrison St.)
212-227-3912

Tuesday, June 29th, 2010—Bar 170

Day 170—Monday, June 28th, 2010
Lilly O'Brien's
Okay, tonight’s bar is a suggestion from one third of the Baltimore Bar Crawlers, Gene, who’s deployed with the Air Force Reserve in Afghanistan right now and hasn’t had a beer in quite awhile. Gene suggested I go to Lilly O’Brien's on a Monday, because he says there’s a Will Ferrell look-alike bartender there that he chatted with when he and the other two thirds of the BBC (Terry and Smoopy) were last in town and they joined the 365 crawl for a few nights.

The Baltimore Bar Crawlers! From left: Gene, Smoopy and Terry, cheers, guys!
Now, I’m curious to see if this guy really looks like Will Ferrell, because while I don’t doubt Gene, they were going to over 79 bars every day and drinking an averaged of 3,416 beers between the three of them on a daily basis. And Smoopy would throw in a couple dozen vodka drinks as well, So, let’s go see if Gene’s vision was impaired or not.

Here we are, Lilly O'Brien's. Let's go look for Will.

The bar looks nice. Now let's see if we can find Will.

And here he is, the hair's a little shorter, but Gene was right, definitely a separated at birth moment. Will's real name is Brian and he's a super-friendly bartender and he vividly remembered Gene, Smoopy and Terry. He said to say hi to all of them, so hi from Brian, Baltimore Bar Crawlers! He also said he hears the Will Farrell thing all the time, in fact someone had just made the comment about an hour ago. And I had to find out his favorite Will Farrell movie and he said it was, "Talladega Nights."

It's been a while, so here we go with the traditional, "Wearin' of the Guinness."

This table up front has a nice street-side view.

Just some of the many beers available on tap.

Greg and Dorollo were enjoying beers at the far end of the bar.

There's large wooden booths in the back dining area.

And there's tables as well for your dining pleasure.

The walls are decorated with sports photos and memorablia.

Here's a sigend Muhammed Ali boxing glove.

And a signed pair of the boxing great's trunks.

Marcus poses with his beer at the front of the bar. Cheers!

Brian minds the till at the bar.

Here's Paul, Lisa and Steve who were getting ready to put "Thunder Road" on the jukebox. "Bruuuuce!"

Adrian works down the street at KD Connelly's right down the street. Adrian invited me to bring the bar crawl there, so I'll be stopping by soon. Stay tuned!

And some wise words posted up at the bar at Lilly O'Briens. Thanks for the hospitality and good times, Brian! Goodnight, everybody!

Review
Lilly O’Brien's is a step above a lot of the “cookie-cutter” Irish bars that inhabit Manhattan. A long wooden bar is set up in the front of the spacious bar with tables up front and a large dining area in the back with more tables and large wooden booths for comfortable seating. The walls are wooden and exposed brick and the decor is sports memorbilia and beer bric-a-brac adorning the walls and shelves. The bartenders are professional and friendly and the clientele is a lively mix of business people from the area, construction workers and tourists stopping in from one of the many hotels in the area having a pint of Guinness and enjoying a New York local bar. First-timers are treated like regulars and the regulars don’t mind seeing newbies coming into the Irish pub.

There’s a large selection of beers on tap, including: Guinness (naturally), Delerium, Harp and Killians. Bottled beers offered here include: Red Stripe, Magners, Rolling Rock and Sierra Nevada. And your fourth beer is always on the house. The kitchen closes late, 2am, Sunday through Wednesday and 4am, Thursday through Saturday. Lilly’s has a large menu and of course there’s a nice selection of Irish eats including: Shepherd`s Pie, Bangers and Mash, Beer Battered Fish & Chips and a Full Irish Breakfast. There’s also your standard pub grub from burgers to wings to chicken wings, but there’s a few surprises to be found on the menu including: Chicken Caruso, Cuban BBQ Panini, Steak Tip Bits and Jumbo Lobster Ravioli. In addition to breakfast, lunch and dinner service, delivery is available.

Lilly’s opens up early at 10am, so it’’s your go-to spot if you get fired or laid off in the morning. And here’s to the Baltimore Bar Crawlers, Gene, Smoopy and Terry! Cheers guys, hurry home Gene and I look forward to all of you joining the crawl when you can! Cheers!

Lilly O'Briens
67 Murray St. (@W. Broadway)
212-732-1592