What do Scotch, Cigars, Tom Cruise and the Village People Have in Common?
You can find them all in the Meat Packing District...
It’s 4:17 in the morning and I’m more full of Scotch than Sean Connery’s wife. I have to admit it though, it was definitely worth it. I have some friends visiting from out of town and one of the guys really likes to drink...I mean really fucking booze. About 8 of us go out to dinner and a show (which will remain nameless as he’s got to apease his wife somehow...I mean we are going out drinking for the next six hours) and then really start to hit the sauce.
We start off at a place on 8th Ave. called Scruffy Duffy’s, which if you’ve never been, is a pretty good semi-dive bar near the (God forsaken) Port Authority. After several beers and a couple of rounds of Irish Car Bombs, we decided to head to one of the few remaining cigar bars in Manhattan - I love the “no smoking” laws in bars, except for the times when I really want t a stogey [Disclaimer: if you love a cigars and Scotch like I do, you really need to go to this place. By the way, it’s called Bar and Books].
So there we are, drinking some of the finest Scotch and smoking a few of the world’s best cigars (it’s good to live it up every now and then) when the next thing you know, it’s last call. Shit. Sometimes there comes a point in the evening when you feel no pain, like you can drink forever...this was one of those evenings.
[Sidebar: the award for the most random drunken conversations of the evening goes to my buddy from out of town and I. Around 3:00 AM the movie Top Gun comes up (don’t ask me how, it just did), when I make the claim that Iron Eagle was a much better movie. My very argumentative friend jumps all over this statement and the two of us start going at it. OK, I’ll cede the point that Top Gun was a much more successful movie, no doubt, the shear star power blew Iron Eagle out of the water. However, from a pure movie perspective, Top Gun can’t hold a candle to Iron Eagle. Think about it. In one sentence sum up to point of Top Gun. What was the problem that was presented in the movie that Tom Cruise’s character (“Pete Mitchell,” by the way) had to solve? Don’t know? That’s because it didn’t have one. There’s no fucking plot in Top Gun! No one ever realizes this because they are too mesmerized by Tom Cruise singing “You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feeling” to Kelly McGillis. Iron Eagle, on the other hand, is the story of Doug Masters, a teenage boy who’s Air Force pilot father was taken hostage by some Middle Eastern rag heads and his plot to save him admits a far-fetched, but interesting storyline. It also had much...I mean MUCH better dog fight scenes than Top Gun. But I digress]
This particular bar happened to be in the Meat Packing District. Let me tell you, there’s a very real reason they call this part of town the “Meat Packing” district and it has nothing to do with placing New York Strip Steaks into cellophane wrappers. The fucking creatures you see in the Meat Packing District at 4AM are classic. Remember the children’s book “Where the Wild Things Are?” Well, I felt like I was walking through a real life version of that book. I have never seen so many prostitutes, transvestites and transvestite-prostitutes in my life. At one point while I was trying to catch a cab, I saw a 300lb black whore with a completely see through shirt (yeah I could see every detail of her monster tits) and an overweight, hairy white guy dressed up in a leather cop outfit like the dude from the Village People, within two seconds of each other. Hell, the guy might have been from the Village People for all I know.
The moral of the story? Scotch and cigars make for a very drunk evening and you can probably get your meat packed any way you like in the Meat Packing District.
NYCDG
It’s 4:17 in the morning and I’m more full of Scotch than Sean Connery’s wife. I have to admit it though, it was definitely worth it. I have some friends visiting from out of town and one of the guys really likes to drink...I mean really fucking booze. About 8 of us go out to dinner and a show (which will remain nameless as he’s got to apease his wife somehow...I mean we are going out drinking for the next six hours) and then really start to hit the sauce.
We start off at a place on 8th Ave. called Scruffy Duffy’s, which if you’ve never been, is a pretty good semi-dive bar near the (God forsaken) Port Authority. After several beers and a couple of rounds of Irish Car Bombs, we decided to head to one of the few remaining cigar bars in Manhattan - I love the “no smoking” laws in bars, except for the times when I really want t a stogey [Disclaimer: if you love a cigars and Scotch like I do, you really need to go to this place. By the way, it’s called Bar and Books].
So there we are, drinking some of the finest Scotch and smoking a few of the world’s best cigars (it’s good to live it up every now and then) when the next thing you know, it’s last call. Shit. Sometimes there comes a point in the evening when you feel no pain, like you can drink forever...this was one of those evenings.
[Sidebar: the award for the most random drunken conversations of the evening goes to my buddy from out of town and I. Around 3:00 AM the movie Top Gun comes up (don’t ask me how, it just did), when I make the claim that Iron Eagle was a much better movie. My very argumentative friend jumps all over this statement and the two of us start going at it. OK, I’ll cede the point that Top Gun was a much more successful movie, no doubt, the shear star power blew Iron Eagle out of the water. However, from a pure movie perspective, Top Gun can’t hold a candle to Iron Eagle. Think about it. In one sentence sum up to point of Top Gun. What was the problem that was presented in the movie that Tom Cruise’s character (“Pete Mitchell,” by the way) had to solve? Don’t know? That’s because it didn’t have one. There’s no fucking plot in Top Gun! No one ever realizes this because they are too mesmerized by Tom Cruise singing “You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feeling” to Kelly McGillis. Iron Eagle, on the other hand, is the story of Doug Masters, a teenage boy who’s Air Force pilot father was taken hostage by some Middle Eastern rag heads and his plot to save him admits a far-fetched, but interesting storyline. It also had much...I mean MUCH better dog fight scenes than Top Gun. But I digress]
This particular bar happened to be in the Meat Packing District. Let me tell you, there’s a very real reason they call this part of town the “Meat Packing” district and it has nothing to do with placing New York Strip Steaks into cellophane wrappers. The fucking creatures you see in the Meat Packing District at 4AM are classic. Remember the children’s book “Where the Wild Things Are?” Well, I felt like I was walking through a real life version of that book. I have never seen so many prostitutes, transvestites and transvestite-prostitutes in my life. At one point while I was trying to catch a cab, I saw a 300lb black whore with a completely see through shirt (yeah I could see every detail of her monster tits) and an overweight, hairy white guy dressed up in a leather cop outfit like the dude from the Village People, within two seconds of each other. Hell, the guy might have been from the Village People for all I know.
The moral of the story? Scotch and cigars make for a very drunk evening and you can probably get your meat packed any way you like in the Meat Packing District.
NYCDG
posted by NYC Drunk Guy at 11:32 PM
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