Refreshingly Alcoholic
For some reason, tonight it's just too late for my brain to get up and running to blog about anything of substance, so I'll just say this:
In New York, there are few bars that I feel have restorative properties. Most of the time, bars here take my money, my brain cells, and my dignity and leave me in excruciating pain the next morning. And then I kick the bartender out of my bed. Just kidding.
Still, when I need some sanctuary in the city, I go to KGB Bar in the East Village and down a bottle of Baltika beer while either listening to a reading or hanging out with some old friends. It's moderately quiet there and has the faint air of pseudointellectualism, so of course I'm right at home. The one caveat: You might have to listen to some bad music. Really bad music. They played Fergie tonight, and I'm not sure I'll ever view the bar the same way again. Oh, who am I kidding? You know I'll always love you, KGB.
In New York, there are few bars that I feel have restorative properties. Most of the time, bars here take my money, my brain cells, and my dignity and leave me in excruciating pain the next morning. And then I kick the bartender out of my bed. Just kidding.
Still, when I need some sanctuary in the city, I go to KGB Bar in the East Village and down a bottle of Baltika beer while either listening to a reading or hanging out with some old friends. It's moderately quiet there and has the faint air of pseudointellectualism, so of course I'm right at home. The one caveat: You might have to listen to some bad music. Really bad music. They played Fergie tonight, and I'm not sure I'll ever view the bar the same way again. Oh, who am I kidding? You know I'll always love you, KGB.
Labels: east village, kgb bar, new york
posted by Jane at 1:03 AM
7 Comments:
Hi Jane,
Now now, you are never too late for your brain to get up and running to blog about something superbly fantastic, it's just that in the back of your mind you know that you really have a thing going for that adorable dark haired vine swinging macho of a man Doctor Blogstein.
Just think, the two of you married and have kids and pretty soon Doc comes in the door after a hard day's work of scheduling the next days programming and walks through that door and picks up his cute gorgeous adorable wife Jane and says guess what we have for our next guess on the show and you say in your cute little wifey voice "I don't know dear who?" then your deep dark haired hunk of a Man says it's Peter Frampton and you both gleefully cheer oh boy wont that make our ratings shoot through the roof, we'll be racking in the buck's big time. LOL
Blogstein, are you reading this? :)
I can see it now...
awesome! When can we start having sex?
Cool your jets, Doc, Phil created the fantasy, you are an innocent bystander. Okay, maybe not so innocent.
I'm an old-fashioned kind of gal, Blogstein. You're going to have to give me some type of insurance on our relationship in the form of diamonds and platinum before you get to first base. You're a doctor: That kind of coin shouldn't be hard to come by.
Hi Jane,
NewbietoNYC said... I'm an old-fashioned kind of gal, Blogstein.
Oh no your not Jane, your just a shy kind of gal who is afraid to chat a little on your blog.
Boo. Ha Ha Ha Ha
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