Sunday, January 24, 2010—Bar 14

Day Fourteen—Saturday, January 23rd—Big Bar

Okay, Thursday was a little tough and last night was a total bust-out, so tonight I’m hoping to find a nice little Saturday night bar and have a little friendly, boozed up fun. As I reported last week, I’ve never been a fan of Saturday nights, so I’m hoping to find a nice, little friendly spot. So I thought I’d just wander around till I find one. So please join me on this happy little wandering mission. Okay, one, two, three, four, here we go, out the door!

Here we are on 14th street. I love the fact that Filene's Basement is on the top floor of this building. Irony at its finest moment.

Few people know this, but Jennifer Convertibles is the third cousin of Jennifer Love Hewitt. I know this because I've had sex with both of them. In my dreams.

What a weird coincidence to see this sign. "Tie me up" is what Jennifer Convertibles would always ask me to do to her. In my dreams!

And speaking of irony, here's the Big Bar. A tiny little bar in the East Village. I've been here before and had a great time. It should be the perfect antidote to last night's weirdness.

The bar is full, but there's one seat available with my name on it!

So I sit down and promptly get a beer which is served by...

Stefan, the friendliest bartender in Manhattan. I told him of last night's troubles and he assured me I was welcome at Big Bar. Stefan's also a writer, check out his first book here: New Roses at Lulu and here: New Roses at Amazon.

Bartender, Stefan.

Some of the beers available at Big Bar.

Here's the trio of beer drinkers seated to my right at the bar: Rubel, Luke and Sacred. All of them are Big Bar regulars.

Big Bar makes the most of its limited size by lining the walls and front window with booths, so there's many seats available.

Stefan in action.

These two are visiting all the way from Finland. They are, Jarkko Tiesmaki and Pasi Kolhonen.

Here's Raymond, the owner of Big Bar!

Big Bar has just one beer on tap, but it's such a tasty brew, they don't need any other. It's Six Point Ale and it's brewed locally in Brooklyn. After two of these it was time for...

Bathroom break!

As you'd expect, the bathroom is tiny, but it's very clean!

Although sadly there's no bathroom mirror for the obligatory bathroom mirror shot. (And I also forgot to bring the Frankie Headbanger patented 365 bar stickers, they'll be back on Monday.)

So once again I take the oblgatory bathroom mirror shot in my bathroom at home. Thanks to Big Bar for a great night out! Goodnight everybody!

Review

Big Bar is like going to a fun and cozy party in a studio apartment in the East Village. The Bartenders and patrons are fun and chatty, even if it’s your first time in the bar. If you want to feel like an instant regular, this is the place to go. It’s got a real New York charm to it and if you’re visiting you need to put this place on your list of bars to go to.

And speaking of New York mentality, just like so many of us have to make the most of our small apartment spaces, Big Bar makes the most of it’s space by having a decent size bar and booths that line the walls and front window. There’s a full drink selection (including the just invented Sho-Joung), a decent beer selection and while there’s only one draft available, it’s the delicious 6 Point Ale, which I’ve never seen at another bar and it’s a delicious ale.

The hours here are Sunday through Thursday 5:00 pm to 2:00 am and Friday and Saturday 5: pm till 4:00 am and there’s a daily Happy Hour. Stop by the Big Bar which is limited in space, but Big in a fun, friendly and cozy atmosphere.

Big Bar
73 E 7th St (between 2nd & 1st Aves.)
(212) 777-6969

January 23, 2010—Bar 13

Day Thirteen—Friday, January 22nd—House of Brews

My friend Karla Zimmerman donated 20 bucks from Chicago. Karla’s a travel writer and has drank beer all over the world and I’m hoping she’ll join me when I take this crawl to Chicago in June. Thanks Karla!

And speaking of money, I’m going to use some of the donations generously sent in to buy a 101 ounce bottle of beer. And no, for once that’s not a typo, I found a bar near Times Square called the House of Brews that has a shitload of variety’s of beer and one of them is called “Stone Double Bastard,” and it’s 101 ounces of foamy delight! And it costs one hundred bucks. So it’s about a dollar an ounce. I can identify with this beer not only because it’s loaded with alcohol, but because several ex-girlfriends have called me a stone double bastard at various stages in our soon to be doomed relationships.

And speaking of relationships, I’m joined tonight by a couple who met on my original website, The Marty Wombacher Show, Jason Hwang and Zioum Zioum the Chainsaw! Both were contributers and frequent commentators (Zioum Zioum coined the phrase “Jesus Hole” over there) and despite the fact that Zioum Zioum lives in France and Jason’s here in New York, they’ve become a romantical type couple. Woo hoo. Okay, enough about them let’s go get that motherfucking 101 ounce of beer!

Here's the bar, located in the heart of the Theater District near Times Square.

The bar sign above the bar.

And another sign announcing the specials that are available that night.

Wow, it's crowded in here tonight, I hope I can find Jason and Zioum Zioum.

And here they are, Jason and Zioum Zioum the Chainsaw! Woo hoo! And now the trouble begins. I try to order the 101 ounce beer and the waitress acts like I'm some kind of a nutjob and tells me that it's not on the menu She said it must've been on the other House of Brews menu.

Well we were at the 46th street House of Brews and here's their online menu. Let's take a closer look, shall we.

Hey House of Brews, here's a little hint in running a bar that claims to have tons of specialty beers: If you don't actually have the beer and your own waitstaff knows nothing about it, don't put it on the fucking menu! So we order a different beer and then the shit really hits the fan in this fucking dump. I go to the front of the bar to take photos of some of the luckless patrons of this piece of shit bar and the first two people I ask are more than happy to pose for a photograph. But before I take it, the bartender screams at me to put the camera away because, in his words, "You can't do that shit in here!" I ask him why I can't take a photo of two people who want their photo taken and he screams back, "Because you can't do that shit in here." Once again I ask him why and he screams back: "Because I said so." He asks if I want to see a manager, but at this point i had had enough of this bullshit. I know I didn't make my quota of drinking four beers and spending an hour in here, but I feel like I can add it to the list. Fifteen minutes in this hellhole is the equivalent of drinking a keg of rotgut whiskey for an eternity in bar hell. Onto the next tavern!

Review

Okay, here’s my experience in this fucking dump: I go there ready to spend over a hundred dollars, then get told that the giant bottle of beer they advertise has never been heard of by the waitress and then when I’m trying to take photos of people for this website, I’m more or less kicked out of this shithole, and the people wanted their photo taken, for fuck’s sake! So to sum it up, I go there ready to spend lots of dough and give them free publicity and they treat me like seven pounds of dog shit and more or less throw me out because I’m going to give them free publicity. Hey, House of Brews, that’s really a SMART way to run a hospitality business...IN BIZARRO BAR WORLD! Fuck this place, don’t go there!

House of Brews—THE WORST BAR IN THE WORLD!
I’ll be fucked if I publish the address or phone number of this fucking dump. DON’T GO THERE!

January 22, 2010—Bar 12

Day Twelve—Thursday, January 21st—Johnny Utah’s

Okay, this is getting wild, I got THREE donations yesterday! My friend Maureen sent in ten bucks for a couple beers! We live in different parts of the country now, but back in the day we probably drank about a million and seven beers together. Joe Marusak sent 20 bucks in from LaPorte, Indiana. Joe is married to Gidget, the coolest DJ in the world who regularly plugs the site on her show. Check it out here: Woody Radio. And last but not least my friend and co-worker, Bob Rudolf sent in twenty bucks as well! Thanks everybody, this is really helping me keep the show on the road and I appreciate it!

Okay, today’s bar is actually a restaurant in the heart of touristville, midtown. It’s a restaurant called Johnny Utah’s and it’s got a bar in it so it qualifies it okay for this bar crawl. Another thing it’s got in it is a mechanical bull. Yeah, that’s right, I’m going to have a few drinks and get all Urban Cowboy on your ass! Okay, practise shouting, “Yee Haw,” and please join me down below as I go looking for love (and booze) in all the wrong places. (Thanks and a hat tip to my friend and co-worker Alen who clued me in about this place.)

Here we are, Johnny Utah's, Jesus, there's a velvet rope here!
I make it throught the velvet rope and walk down the stairs and discover two things: 1. The bar is packed. And: 2. The bar is LOUD! There is techno and dance music blaring in here, one thing you should know about me is I'm almost deaf in my left ear and the right isn't much better from seeing tons of rock 'n' roll shows in my wild youth. It's going to be impossible to talk to people in here, so I'm just going to take pictures.

To the right of the bar is where people watch the mechanical bull in operation. Goofy hats appear to be all the rage here.

This guy is the announcer and operates the mechanical bull. With a twist of the wrist, he can make your back go splooey!

the bull itself looks not so much like a bull, but more like a bunch of Hefty bags sewed around pillows.

One thing I'm noticing about the bull riders is...

They kind of look like jerk-offs. Witness the goofy hat guy.

At this point I abandon any thoughts of riding the Hefty bag bull.

I think I've made the right decision.

I've tired of the bull and turn my attention here. HELLO!

Rule number two cracks me up, "Do not ride if intoxicated." You're a motherfucking bar with a goofy bull in it and you think people aren't bombed in here? Plus it's so loud what else is there to do but booze it up?

Here's the DJ responsible for all the noise.

A candle!

Lady Gaga had a concert across the street at Radio City Music Hall and there were several Lady Gaga wannabees at the bar. Here's one of them.

The bar is still pakced and too loud to talk to people. I chug-a-lug my fourth beer and decide to get out of there.

A grumpy self-portrait of myself in Johnny Utah's.

The toilet's were clean, but they have these weird metalized stalls there.

It rendered my patented Frank Scott, "Hey how'd that get there," sticker moment worthless as they wouldn't adhere to the walls. Motherfucker! And worst of all, there was no mirror for my obligatory bathroom shot. No mirror? I was looking for mirrors in all the wrong places. Sob!

So I took the shot in my own bathroom when I got home. Goodnight everybody!

Review

If you want to play Urban Cowboy, there is only one joint in Manhattan to do it and that is Johnny Utah’s. It’s the only mechanical bull in town. Bull riding starts every night at 7:30 pm and it’s free to ride (at your own risk.) The only rules are that you have to be 18-years-old or over and you need a picture I.D. Oh, and you can’t be intoxicated...HA!

As far as the bar goes, it’s pretty much your standard midtown bar, but extra loud with dance and techno music blaring. What does seperate them from the pack is a HUGE selection of whiskies and tequila. Check out their website for all the different choices. All the usual choices of bottled beer and 20 ounce drafts are available along with specialty drinks like, Johnny’s Mint Lemonade which is Jack Daniels, mint and lemonade and assorted flavors of martini’s and lemonade.

They have a full menu of southwestern fare such as Kentucky Fried Catfish, Shrimp and Grits and Grilled Dogs with Mac ‘n’ Cheese. I didn’t eat there, but the food looked good. They’re open till two a.m. every night except Saturday when they’re open till three in the morning.

The crowd here is typical midtown Manhattan: Equal parts after-work crowd, tourists, fratboys, fratgirls and the occasional Lady Gaga wannabe. Oh and of course there’s the bull. Yeehaw!

Johnny Utah’s
25 West 51st St. (between 5th and 6th Aves.)
212-265-UTAH