Here's how this works: you've got to walk up to this back-alley door and knock on it, then some hipster in a Hawaiian shirt answers the call. I'm old enough to remember speakeasies and this is no speakeasy. There was a certain level of caution and exclusivity with speakeasies, but this place was basically a Sam's Club. It seems like if you're a warm body with a wallet then you pass the test. If they aren't going for the whole genuine speakeasy thing then I don't know what all the pageantry is about.
Anyways, this Hawaiian-shirt-clad hipster sits you down in a booth in the darkest room you've ever been in. He doesn't give us any menus before he walks away. Let me be clear... If you told me my ticket into a drinking establishment was a feeble knock on handleless door I would have walked away on principle alone. There are plenty of other places willing to take my money for a J&B neat without all the fanfare.
Is it deja vu or is it some other hipster in a Hawaiian shirt squatting at the side of our table giving us a whole spiel about how things "work around here"? It's some other hipster, perhaps the lead hipster, giving an entire dissertation on the ordering process. We're told they have no menu, and apparently the way you get a drink is by telling this schlebb your favorite liquor and what kinds of flavors you like in a drink. I have two very simple answers to this absurd question: whiskey and whiskey.
My daughter seems indifferent, but the spineless son-in-law is completely giddy about this experience. I love my daughter with every inch of my heart, but her decision to marry into such weakness makes me sick. A man who can't ask for the fathers blessing before proposing is no man at all. It's the same kind of man who can't look you in the eye when he shakes your hand... the kind of 'man' that doesn't tuck his shirt in for church. I'm not saying my daughter settled, but I'm not saying that my son-in-law isn't the most spineless dewdropper I've ever met either.
But I digress... the granddaughter notices my frustration and orders first. Obviously she's trying to set a tone that this should be a fun experience. She asks for a vodka drink and the impatient hipster informs her that vodka is not good enough for them and that they don't carry it. I vocally opt for another bar; she opts for gin.
It gets to my turn and I tell this slick bastard that I want an old fashioned. Judging by the look on his face it would seem that I just ruined their whole business model, but I'm not losing sleep over it. He already ruined my night!
I give this place 2 stars off for the smug hipsters in this place's employ, 1 star off for Hawaiian shirts in a landlocked bar, 1 star off for the convoluted ordering process, and I would absolutely give it several more stars off for no other reason than spite. read more