Day 160—Friday, June 18th, 2010
The Bar in the Marriott Hotel in Times Square (Originally headed for Press Lounge—Rooftop bar at Ink 48 Hotel)
Okay, I’m feeling much better than last night and I’m ready to get back on the crawl. Friday nights can be tough to do this sometimes because of the crowds and noise factor, so I try to find low-key places to go to. It’s a nice night and you’d think that a rooftop bar would be a poor choice, but I’ve heard about this new rooftop bar in the Ink 48 Hotel called the Press Lounge and it’s supposed to be huge. And in some of the reviews I’ve read it says there’s no bottle service (translation: No yuppies and phony wannabe’s paying crazy-ass prices for a bottle of vodka) and no blaring music. So it’s sounds like it’s worth a try, okay, let’s go...up on the roof!
I hailed a cab and great God's almighty does it stink in here! Like a combination of sweat, piss and some sort of rancid Aqua Velva scent. Windows down and head out the window immediately!
Here we are heading uptown on a Friday night in Manhattan, lots of traffic and I've just thrown up a little bit in my mouth from the stink in the cab.
The line to the rooftop bar is out the door. Motherfucker! This jackass says to me, "Welcome to Manhattan," like some sort of know-it-all. I've lived here for 17 years and he probably just got off the plane from Bumblefuck, Idaho two hours ago. But I guess he's got a point, a rooftop bar on a nice summer night in Manhattan and I thought I would just waltz in. What the fuck was I thinking? Well, I'm not waiting in this line. Maybe this hotel has another bar.
They do, but they just called last call. At 11:30 pm on a Friday night? Welcome to Manhattan. I got a feeling this is going to be a long-ass night.
This block is void of bars, I'm going to walk up a block to 10th Avenue and begin my walk of shame. A rooftop bar on a Friday night...STUPID! What was I thinking? Welcome to Manhattan!
And now time for my lonely walk in search of a bar that's not jam-packed on a Friday night.
Fuck it, every bar I've walked by is jammed to the stinking rafters. If I'm going to have to do tonight's crawl in a maddening place, might as well go all the way. I'm at 42nd and 10th, just a few blocks from the crazy-ass goings on in Times Square on a Friday night. As long as I'm going to have to subject myself to madness, I might as well go all the way.
If I wasn't so pressed for time I'd stop here and sample some of the gourment food. One word Mr. Deli Man, "Spellcheck!"
I wish Curly was here right now so I could say, "Curly, all that's missing from this sign is U." Nyuck, nyuck, nyuck!
Here we are, deep in the heart of touristville.
I think I made a mistake, but there's no turning back now.
Something tells me this woman isn't going to be happy with this artist's depiction of her looking like a batshit-crazed Katie Couric.
I never come here and now I know why, there's no bars in this sea of bullshit!
Hey Spiderman, why don't you go solve a crime and quit ripping off the hicks?
No way am I drinking at a T.G.I.F.'s, even if it is a Friday night.
This place looks corny, but I've been walking around over an hour and I just want to have my three drinks and get home. (Clicks heels three times.)
Shit, no seats here. Help me Mr. Wizard!
Okay, hopefully there's a seat at the bar here.
"Home of the KILTED bartenders?" Holy shitballs! Kilt's creep me out big time! I mean if you're a man and you want to wear a dress, go for it, but at least slap on some make-up and make some sort of effort at cross-dressing. I can't take a guy wearing a plaid dress and being all Scottish and manly. This night is truly hexed!
Fuck it, I've boycotted the bar in the Marriott for years. It used to spin and was kind of cool. Then they redid it and it doesn't spin anymore and it's just boring. But I've had enough.
See what I mean?
And a bottle of Budweiser is nine fucking bucks here! I gave the guy a twenty and here's my change! Unfuckingbelievable!
Self-portrait of a broken bar-crawler.
For once I didn't hand out cards or tell the bartender what I was doing, I'm sure the way my luck is running he would've told me no pictures. So I snuck this one.
Moment's later he called last call. At 12:45 on a Friday night (Saturday morning to be technically correct.) I got two to make my three drink minimum. Welcome to Manhattan! I hope you enjoyed the little Times Square tour, because we won't be crawling back here anytime soon. Goodnight everybody!
Review
The bar here used to spin in a circle and you could see all the sights in Times Square while drinking a nine dollar bottle of Budweiser. It doesn’t spin anymore. Fuck.
The Bar in the Marriott Hotel in Times Square
1535 Broadway
212-398-1900