Thursday, January 31, 2008

Gas tank on E but all drinks on me

It takes talent to walk out of the cheapest bar in Manhattan with a $100 bar tab, but yours truly and her super fabulous roomie are quite the gifted pair. M and I decided to holler at a new bar on Saturday night, so we found ourselves walking down Rivington in search of the “perfect bar”, and jackpot! We found it. Inside was quite possibly the best music I have heard thus far in a bar in Manhattan, everything from the Doors to Judas Priest to Tupac, and a dirty-artsy crowd that we were diggin’. We order our first round of drinks and were pleasantly surprised at how cheap they were-$5 a pop! Score, a cheap night out! After round two, the bartenders put four shots onto the bar and ask M and I if we want to take a shot, fuck yes we do! Score again! After going from A to B to a few more rounds, another shot with the bartenders, meeting Charles Manson, bathroom debacles, to Z! We decided to call it a night….and get what we thought would be our $30 tab, which turns out to be nearly one hundred bones because apparently we bought shots for ourselves and the bartenders. Now that my friends is ENTRAPMENT if I have ever seen it, you can’t pour shots and hand them out and then charge people for them?! Un-be-lievable. The bar is named after a saint and as M so greatly put it “that’s why this guy is the patron saint of getting bitches crunk and stealing their money.”

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