What Do Ya Want?

7.3.2015

Just before the Y2K disaster, I visited New York City.  Linkey Loo Robot is there right now and he's reminding me of drinking in NYC, because he's .... drinking in NYC.

The fun things I remember about drinking in NYC include drinking in really swank places, like in the lobby of the Plaza Hotel, as well as in Brooklyn "bars" that had not a single light in the place but had real coolers - with ice - to keep beers cold.  The not as fun thing I distinctly remember is the attitude one barkeep had when I had to make an emergency pit-stop.

The group of jokers I was with had had fried eggs and bloodys a few hours earlier, followed by hired-car rides to Manhattan.  We enjoyed "road sodas" on the trip and found ourselves at a bar upon arrival.  One of us booked some luncheon and we set to foot, as the restaurant was a few blocks off and it was a nice day.  We passed a saloon just as I felt the earlier beverage service catch up to me and I called out for a quick rest.  I ducked into the parlor.

I did not walk in like I owned the place, but I did bee-line to the rear of the joint, expecting to find the loo.  There were a few people at the bar, none together.  The keep polished a glass and eyed me walking.  "Can I help you?" she said.  She had a Sheryl Crow-like look about her:  Dark blonde streaks in brown curls to her shoulders, a red plaid shirt with sleeves rolled up, one higher than the other.  I couldn't see if the tails were tucked into worn jeans secured with a two-inch brown leather belt, but if her lower was like her upper, they were.

"You have a restroom back here somewhere, don't you?"  I said.  My tone was congenial and had a smile to go with it.  She was having neither.  "It's for customers.  You're not a customer."  I stayed friendly and said, "Shoot me a Wild Turkey, then, will ya?  I'll be back to collect it in a minute."

I relieved myself and returned to the bar, the shot waiting for me.  She said, "8 bucks, and you might want to do this backwards next time."  I nodded.  "Buy a drink first," she said.  I thanked her for translating.  I took my shot standing and dug into my pocket, took a ten from the wad and dropped it on the bar.  "You have the New York attitude down pat, ma'am," I said.  "Thanks for the drink."


Tonight - Royal Cuckoo

Happy BDay Joan!!  Happy BDay JPo!!

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!