Beer, games, sushi, saki, go go dancers and red wine
It was an unexpected full night that started out as a simple birthday celebration for my friend Karen. The idea was to meet for dinner and drinks at Bohemian Hall (29-19 24th Ave, Astoria). I’m normally late for everything and tonight was no different. Yet I did try to get there as close to 6:00 as possible (ok … 6:40). There was Karen, writing and waiting. It seems everyone was running late.
We have a mutual theory about scheduling in NYC. If you say 6:00, it really means 8:00 since no one wants to get there before the party starts going strong. This is usually the case with after-work, happy hour events during the week, but Sundays are different. It’s a special day. To some (like a third of the world), a holy day. So times tend to hold a more specific meaning on Sundays.
As we waited and chatted, I noticed how this place was nothing as I had pictured it. It’s name implied a huge place but it was quite the opposite. A small, welcoming dive bar with wood paneling, booths, tons of beer and foosball. I ordered up the darkest beer they had whose name I can’t recall. Decent prices, neighborly staff.
Once the rest of the party was there, we decided to move to the basement area. A larger, brighter, cooler and quieter area reminiscent of a summer camp arts and crafts room. Large wooden tables with square glass vases filled with water, rocks and sunflowers. The walls were adorned with fake fences. We played Triominos.
Well, actually everyone else played, Karen ordered me not to play. This stemmed from an earlier conversation where I was declared Karen’s best friend, thanks to being the first to show for the party. Little did I know she meant it more as a ‘sidekick’ position. I should have known better with this crowd that the night would be filled with laughter and good-hearted ribbing. At least I hope t was ribbing. If not, I’ll need to go buy tights and a utility belt ASAP.
In the end it was all good since it didn’t seem like anyone really knew how to play the game and I got to take some ‘abstract‘ snapshots. We moved on to Texas Hold ‘Em. I lost, but than again nothing was wagered. My friend Will ordered the party a round of Jaeger Bombs. I only did the shot because I’m not much into ‘bombs’. I’m pretty much a purist when it comes to cocktails.
I prefer simple shots like whiskey, tequila or some other such stand-alone elixir. My beer is usually Guinness or some other such stout. Mixed drinks must have a max of three ingredients and I count the ice. So how do ‘bombs’ or ‘drop shots’ fit into this. Well, they don’t. I say do the shot and–if need be–drink the chaser. Karen’s friend Anita didn’t want to do the bomb either. In fact, not even wanting the shot of Jaeger, she slid it over to me.
Will ordered another next round of shots–this time tequila–and several pitchers of Hoegaarden. After a very brief political debate between myself, Will and Anita and settling up the bill, we all strolled over to Will’s apartment for some red wine. It was around then that our group of faithful revelers realized that the food portion of the night had not yet happened. So we headed out for some sushi.
Tokyo (31-05 24th Ave, Astoria) is a tiny place. I had the spicy tuna and some nice hot saki. We were there until they stacked the chairs and shut the lights. But instead of chasing us out, they kept bringing more saki. I think we all lost track of the fact that it was Sunday. This became painfully clear when we found ourselves on the long (very long) walk to a go go bar called Mermaids (3106 31st St, Long Island City). Now, at this point I have to say I was a bit concerned for my health, but having too much of a good time to really care.
People always think that I’m just trying to be politically correct when I say that I have never been into the whole strip club, go go bar scene. The harsh blacklight and bright neon colors. The overly-expensive, all-too-weak drinks. Yes the girls admittedly have some serious skills to move like they do in those heels, on those poles. But throwing my money at such antics is just not my thing. I would much prefer to meet a real girl and have a real conversation where money doesn’t inevitably need to change hands as a pretense to first contact.
The best part of the night came when I was trying on Will’s batman baseball cap for some reason. Oh, it was because he had put Anita’s cap on my head and everyone said it looked good. Meanwhile it barely fit thanks to my freakishly elongated skull. So I swiped Will’s cap which was resizable and got it to fit. Anyway, right at that moment one of the dancers that Will had been tipping earlier came over and–in a case of mistaken identity–thanked me. Classic.
Now came the long journey home. I waited with Karen and Anita until they got a cab. We were right under the Astoria Blvd ‘N’ stop at this point, but who knows how long it would take for the train to come. So I hopped in with them and asked the driver to take me back to Manhattan after taking them to Corona. Of course, just as he pulled out from under the tracks, my train rolled into the station.
After dropping Karen and Anita off, the trip back to Manhattan took longer than I had imagined. As I dozed off like a bobble head doll in the backseat, the drive gave me time to reflect on the fun I had. Thankfully the PATH came quickly and I was able to get another cab in Hoboken. I stumbled into my apartment at 4:30.
See Also:
Abstract Astoria Photo Gallery
Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden
