Hells Kitchen

Not sure where to put this post – TWSS

A couple of weeks back I went out for after work drinks with friends. I was tagging along and we decided to hit up a place in Hells Kitchen. I really wasn’t paying attention on how we got there but we walk in and this place was off the hook. Seriously you remember those movies where they walk into a night club and it was a former church or grand hall. Seriously all this place needed was go-go dancers on stripper poles. The music was right up my alley; The Cult “She Sells Sanctuary” welcomed us as we walked into the joint. I am going to have to ask Zsquared to bring us back there.

img_0236From the back looking to the front of the joint.

img_0237The bar, the top of the columns must be 30 feet tall.

img_0238DJ Booth where he spun some steel wheels

Seriously one of these days I am going to find the Saturday Night Fever bar on this island.

Been kinda Bizzy!

Stop yelling at me ok? I get it that I am a slacker and haven’t written in a week. I could give you this sob story about how I am banging out a bunch of hours on the new job. Or that since Momma is pledging her sorority at NYU I have taken up the duty of cooking the evening meals. That on Sunday when I normally bust out a lot of these stories on the laptop but the internet was jacked up.  It certainly couldn’t be that I went to the West Side to drink Whisky and smoke cigars with The Banker. Nah it wasn’t that one, not at all.  let’s get you back up to speed shall we?

Yes, last week I was back in Memphis for selling tickets class for the Tour Bus company and I really didn’t have much time to play. I did some networking, I caught up with my former admin who now lives in Memphis and lived out off of Hack Cross Road for the week. I did ‘sneak’ downtown on Sunday and got to see some folks but this trip was so busy I didn’t sound the alarm so sorry if I didn’t see everyone. We will be back at Christmas so clear your calendar. Anyway here are some pictures that I had on my iFoam so here they are in no particular order. Yes they are way out of order too.

img_5525Those damned South Main Hipsters with their ManBuns……Oh wait sorry Gardo!

img_5533Your Father is an Eagles Fan, your mommy is a Cowboys fan…Let’s piss them all off shall we Lisa Marie? Let’s make you a JETS fan!

img_5534The Dog is thinking – “Who is this Northern Fecker who knocked on my door and camped out on my patio smoking a cigar?”

img_5542That kid is going to be alright. Already camping out under the bar on a busy Wednesday night.

img_5543So good to see these two!

img_5545I will admit that I miss the Memphis News a little.

img_5558Made a trip on the Q Train to Park Slope and walked by the Russian House in Neon

img_5559Congrats to Mr. 3 first names on getting a new title with the NYFD. We are proud of you and hope you will be in the UES!

img_5568Forgot to hit Send on this on Saturday. Thankfully we had Whisky Club on Sunday.

img_5517Still got to use these on Sunday night. Anyone else have keys to a bar in Memphis? I do….at least until Momma changed the lock.

I am off to Boston this afternoon to celebrate my Aruba Wife’s anniversary of circling the sun 50 times. Have a good weekend and I promise to do better.

 

Just look for the Pig on 9th Avenue

I have a confession to make to you. Each and every Sunday when my friends in Memphis are shuttling their kids to and from sporting events or are doing mountains of laundry Mrs. Trumpet and I are exploring a different section of Manhattan. You may be saying “big hairy deal CBT, what’s the fun in that”….well, I failed to mention that when we get into a new neighborhood we are in search of Manhattan’s better dive bars. To quote Bucket List;

“Let’s face it; dive bars are probably one of society’s accidentally-created best things ever. In reality, they’re simply neighborhood places that serve cheap drinks and have no-nonsense attitudes. These are the places that pretty much say, “don’t F*** with anyone here and everything’s fine.”

Their drinks are simple, you can be left alone to drink or talk in private, and d-bags aren’t welcome. But that’s not all there is to them. Dive bars have that something special that make you feel welcome as soon as you walk in.”

So far we have found some real gems in the West Village, East Village, Union Square, Upper East Side and in Murray Hill of all places. This past Sunday Mrs. Trumpet informed me that she wanted to ‘go west’ so we made a trip over to Hell’s Kitchen. Now to qualify a joint as a ‘dive bar’ it must meet certain criteria. You have heard me talk about Alex’s Tavern in the Crime-Free Evergreen District of Memphis and that my friends, is a classic dive bar. It meets checks all the boxes. For example;

  • Beer, cheap and Lots of it! And not all that fancy microbrew stuff, we are talking the classics here. Bonus if the carry a cheap beer on tap.
  • An excess of gaudy neon, preferably for brands of beer that are no longer available and Christmas lights are the main source of light.
  • Pictures on the walls and the décor are dated and there is probably a stuffed animal head hanging somewhere.
  • The toilet seat in the ladies room doesn’t fit the toilet and the men’s room has extra reinforcement on the stall walls. The bathrooms are graffiti covered and actually doesn’t smell of bleach and stale beer like one would think.
  • Very simple menu or none at all. Lightbulb Pizza can count as one of the food groups.
  • The ceiling either sags or is still stained brown from when smoking was legal.
  • The jukebox has at least one of these classic musicians; Georgia Satellites, Bob Segar, Lynnard Skynnard, Molly Hatchet, Allman Brothers, Kid Rock, Hank Williams Jr., Nazareth, or  Jimmy Buffet. Oh and there is fucking absolutely ZERO – Bieber on the jukebox too.
  • An aging Rock and Roll or movie star must have hung out there at some period of time back in the day. (This is Sonny, Joe is ready to be picked up now!)
  • There is a Pay Phone.
  • Happy Hour starts at 9 AM.
  • Cash only or they will accept a check. The cash register is something out of a 1950’s movie. If you write a bad check you go on the ‘shit list’ that is behind the bar for all to see.

This past Sunday momma and I made it over to 9th Avenue between 44th and 45th. Until otherwise proved wrong I think that we may have found our unicorn of Manhattan.  Ladies and Gentlemen I give you Rudy’s Bar & Grill on 9th Avenue.

Rudy’s Bar and Grill, according to its website, was originally a speakeasy opening on or around 1919. It was one of New York’s first liquor license recipients when prohibition ended in 1933. The guest list of famous people who have frequented the bar reads like a who’s who of Hollywood. The bar has red vinyl banquettes along one wall and had more red duct tape on them than vinyl. On the opposite wall the bar runs the length of joint and is done up in deep dark mahogany. You order a beer from Judy, and she happily informs you that “sweetie, you can leave your money on the bar and I will let you know when I need more” as compared to keeping a tab. The music on the jukebox, there is no way to describe it. I actually heard “Rocky Top” being played at one time and even heard some Frank Sinatra 5 minutes later. Like I said, this place hasn’t changed one bit. You seriously think you stepped into a time machine when you walk in this joint. Oh and I failed to mention the best part as I am putting it on the LVD short list of bars; wait for it……they serve free hotdogs!

IMG_0878Back of the Bar – Oh and notice how tight it is behind the bar. That is what we call a ‘One Ass’ bar. No way you can get two bartenders behind that sucker.

IMG_0877Notice how the pitcher of Rudy’s Blonde is the same as two Bud Lights. Even I have scruples.

IMG_0903I guess the cost of Red Duct Tape is cheaper than Red Vinyl

IMG_0902Mrs. Trumpet asked for a hot dog with Mustard and Ketchup and they brought her two hot dogs, one with Mustard and the other with Ketchup. At least they are free!

IMG_0879Shout out to the TQ for coming to New York for my Birthday! All I got from Nova was a Facebook post about a chicken!!!!!!

I end with a quote by the late Wanda Wilson the former owner of another great Dive Bar in Memphis – “This isn’t a bar sweetie. It’s an orphanage for the misunderstood.”