There is a backyard garden. Tables and chairs. Hot air heavy with pollen. It's the worst allergy season New York has ever seen. You get your own drinks from inside. No food. There are bags of chips you can buy at the bar. Inside, it's dark wood and friendly faces. New to the neighborhood, it's drawing a crowd. Neighbors meeting for the first time. Classy tap beers offered for $2 off during happy hour. Accompanied by an extensive whiskey list.
The bell chimes as the door opens.
'Hey, what can I get you?'
'Hi. Um. Has a girl been here? She's uh. A woman. I mean. She has hair. Usually wears jeans. Glasses but she might not have been wearing them. Ugh. Damn it.'
'...'
'She has a big forehead' he said apologetically.
'Really. A fivehead. Like that dinosaur with 3 horns'
'A triceratops?'
'Bingo. Yes. A triceratops. Only pretty. And with smaller excrement piles. Hopefully.
'Actually yeah. She's in the back.'
'Really?'
'No.'
'...'
'...girlfriend?'
'No.'
'Just somebody you're meeting at the bar?'
'Nope. Quite the opposite actually. Do you have Sailor Jerry's?'
The 13th Step is what it's called when two people from AA have sex. Two lonely fucked up people connecting. Fine by me. I'm a broken robot who wants to feel love. If it wasn't for the stop drinking part I might even go to some meetings for that.
Or the 13th Step is when an AA old timer has sex with a newcomer. Which has a "don't fuck the interns" less cool vibe to it. AA is an emotionally vulnerable place but unless you are over-brimming with confidence being the fresh meat always comes with an insecure feeling. This is why I stay away from new people at jobs. I'm a recovering creep. I take the battery out of my phone after 5 drinks and have to ask a family member for my Facebook password whenever I want to log in. Damn it. Jean, I just want to change my cover photo!
So they named a bar The 13th Step. Naming a drinking establishment after an AA expression. Clever. Inside jokey. Insensitive. Let's go inside.
It's been awhile so I'm a little fuzzy on the details. I remember the waitress was hot. She had glasses. Glasses are beautiful. That just totally does it for me. I write for a Velma Dinkley slash fiction blog. It's called Oh Jinkies! Check it out sometime. I know. Confessions of a Creepy Mind.
They offer cheap drinks. Weekdays 11-8 the entire bar is half priced. That's the kind of deal that will get you in trouble. You know what I mean. You walk out and are blinded by the sun. "Oh! Oh!" Grabbing at your skin like it's burning. You've been watching Trueblood and you're hammered. It's only 3 in the afternoon. Get on the subway, throw Swedish fish at people. Get off after three stops, puke in a garbage can,, get back on before the doors close. 3:15. Car empties out like somebody just took a dump. "What's wrong with you people?!?! Never seen a person throw up before I guess." You get to your stop. Can't make it home. Piss on the steps of your own subway station. Right in front of two old ladies. "Eyes on your own paper grans. What, never seen one that big before?" It's just now 4 in the afternoon.
Hey, it happens. Things get carried away sometimes.
They also have Colossal Nachos. Served on a big platter and stacked 3 feet high. It's enough to split with 5 or 6 other people and, if you don't mind your food served on an upside down garbage can lid, at $30 it's a good value.
5 shots for $10. 5 shots for $10. 5 shots for $10.
Wooooo. That's what is important here. Don't come for food. They don't have any. Don't come for good service. They don't have any of that either. Don't come for a well decorated room. You're not going to feel at home and you're not in for a magical evening. There are thousands of other bars for that stuff. Come here to get drunk.
I always thought of Continental as a classic New York bar. It's on Third and St. Marks. It's grimy. Cheap as hell. It just always felt, to me, like a throwback to what New York used to be. The New York that scared the fucking shit out of me when my dad used to drag us in to the city as kids. That's the romanticized New York you hear so many old timers talk about. I thought Continental was a peek into that. Like a drunker less scene CBGBs.
However, I don't know for a fact if Continental has anything to do with a previous era of NYC. It could have opened in 2004 and been made to look shitty. For saps who come in and tell their friends "Oh man I heard Joey Ramone shot heroin into David Byrne's dick here."
Why do I even have any interest in that New York? I'm not cool. I don't own any leather. I definitely don't want to rape anybody. And I don't do drugs. Unless my friends are making me. I'm not a chicken or a turkey okay?
To be honest my window into the glory of a more grimy city...is the Ninja Turtles movie! Oh man. The sewers. Old taxis. Pizza. The smoke rising from the streets. What is that? Street fog? It's like fucking Scorsese directed it. De Niro era New York ended with the Ninja Turtle movie. I guess because it peaked so hard. I love it and that's how I get into it. Truly.
So I researched Continental to find the year it opened. Sadly I saw a lot of really negative comments, reviews and a consistent history of alleged racism at the door. Aziz Ansari has a bit about South Carolina being racist but still liking it because it has good food. Well I don't like biscuits. I think they're terrible. I do like getting drunk though. Love it.
They won't give you water for free. Smart because they are mostly dealing with dirt bags like me. You can usually get a beer for a couple of dollars though.
There is an okay jukebox. The website says it's the best jukebox in the world. Lunacy. Average at best. It's better than no jukebox at all though. The website also says Iggy Pop drank here. Maybe he should be in the jukebox then? I'm not sure if he was.
As you leave the boroughs and keep going east population density drops. Which is nice at first. Population density goes down as comfort goes up. You order drinks without waiting. And they are cheaper. You take a piss and the toilet isn't kicked to a million pieces and covered in shit.
Less people = less assholes. But no people = post apocalyptic waste land.
You keep going east and that comfort line goes up. But then it stops suddenly. Its makes a tear filled apology and swan dives from its great height. Oh comfort line. Why? Because we are in the sticks now.
We don't scare easy though. Built Ford tough. American made. A drunk, grinning tornado of a pirate. If you want to find us, follow the trail. We drag our big dicks on the ground like a dinosaur tail. We invented pussy flavored chewing tobacco. And if we met Jason Vorhees we wouldn't run for the door or up the stairs. We'd stick that mask up his ass and whatever didn't fit is going in his dickhole.
So we're not babies. We still get scared out east though. Nighttime. Nobody is here. Bat country. Does a tumbleweed still tumble if there is nobody around to see it? No zombies. They've moved on in search of brains. Go west, young Zombie. Go west.
Why was I there? Why do men do anything? Women. We sails oceans for women. Fight wars. Go to the moon. Go to Bellport.
The bar is an old house. I used to live in an old house. So I know a thing or two about getting drunk in them. Lesson 1. Pee outside. That's exactly what you do. Parking lot. Like you're at Giants stadium finishing up at the tailgate.
Saturdays they have live music. It's one guy. Acoustic I guess. I think he played Tom Petty. I know he played Brown Eyed Girl. I tried hating on him and then he played a song I really liked. Unfortunately I can't remember because I was drunk. Hunter S. Thompson used to carry a tape recorder. So did Tucker Max though.
I know it was a big house but I really just hung around the bar. They had pickle backs which was a nice surprise. Although negated by the beers costing $6. The bar tenders were too (caught this but leaving it. they were two and too) Italian looking guys. One tall and thin, the other shorter and stocky. They would be fantastic as the Mario Brothers for Halloween. Or just everyday. Its a me! Bellport Mario!
They are supposed to have good food. Assume fish stuff since we're not far from the water. Kitchen closes before 10 so I've never had the chance to eat.
They have a dice game. You are permitted one roll a day. Dollar a roll. I think it was 5 dice and you have to roll the same number on all of them. If you succeed you take the pool. Fun little bar game.
It was a good place. Comfortable. Dice game is a great idea. The music was good.
Hey broseph. I love weird places. Like a surf bar in the middle of Manhattan. Down a dark gnarly flight of stairs and the side door of an office building. I came here alone the first time and to be completely honest it was only because I was hoping it was a trap and somebody would be waiting to murder me. Lol dudes! But seriously it's how I end all of my bad days.
Guess what bro? I didn't get murdered. Sweet. It was a Tuesday and they had a taco deal. One decent size taco for $3. They had another deal too. $3 tequila shots. I went with a friend and we were hanging ten of these...in our mouths? Was that forced? I don't know. Point is you come here on a Tuesday and surf's up, you're fucking drunk.
They have two TV's. One with typical local sports and the other with a looped video of surf scenics and dancing island girls. I don't know. I don't pay attention to that sort of thing. What am I 13? Hiding the swimsuit edition under my mattress? I'm a grown man. If I'm going to scope out babes on a TV like a crusty perv it's going to be hardcore porn. And I'm going to masturbate with my hand into a Tommy Bahama shirt. Gahhhhhh. Mahalo broseph. I really needed that.
Music. It seems like there would be surf music right? For the life of me I can't remember. I was having such a good time drinking waves of tequila and busting some taco grindage that I didn't even notice the music. Also, I have surf music permanently playing in my brain. Like a Tarantino movie.
They have one of those giant fish bowls of alcohol here and I'm stoked to come back and get it. $45 and it says it's for 6 people. But I'm not afraid to take it alone. I'm like one of those big wave surfers. I've never seen a drink I'm going to back down from. Tie me to a jet ski, tow me out there and let the big dog eat. Or drink.
On the menu there is a sandwich with fries in it. Which immediately reminds me of Primanti Brothers in the least surfer dudetastic city in America. Pittsburgh. Hopefully they remove it from the menu soon because all that Pittburghy stuff really harshes my buzz while I'm here.
Some of the seating is communal tables which are fine. Whatever. They are just a little awkward if you start arm wrestling. Which I did. Over The Top style. Just once but it was intense. Initially I got shocked and was like "Whoa Big Kahuna ease up." So I gave a lot of ground up off the get go but I hung in there. Waiting for the right time to come back. Straining against the final push to put me down. Then I dug deep. Finding the Rainbow Warrior within. And I beat that small girl with authority. Boom! She was so strong dudes. But I'll take on all challengers. Provided they are female. And not a professional athlete or something. And under I don't know. 135 pounds. And not angry. Cause you know how people can have that angry strength? So I'll take on all female, non athlete, under 135lb challengers who are in a calm state.
I recently went three weeks without getting drunk. Longest stretch since before I turned 21. It was a dead period for this blog for sure but alcohol wasn't completely out of my life. I still slept next to a kegerator most nights. Had a random social drink here and there. And one night I found a bottle of champagne, cracked it open and shook sprayed it all over my bathroom like I just won the fucking World Series. You don't have to get wrecked to have fun.
Rudy's is located on 44th and 9th in Manhattan. It's a dive bar. Maybe the diviest dive bar. I'd say Whitehorse Tavern is shittier but Rudy's is cheaper. So much cheaper. $7 pitchers of whatever garbage that is the house beer and $2.50 pints.
Rudy's is most famously known for the Pig standing outside the bar. It's big and weird looking. I don't care for him. Some research shows that he's 6 feet tall and named Baron. If you high five him you are trying too hard to have fun. Just go inside and drink.
People who have seen Rudy's will talk about the Pig. But anybody who has been to Rudy's will take about the hot dogs. They are everywhere. Because they are free! Ah I know. There is also a Papaya Dog two blocks away. And a dollar slice pizza place next to that. Just no shortage of diarrhea fuel in Hell's Kitchen if we are together. Ladies call me.
The hots dogs come with ketchup or mustard. If it's busy they won't even ask you they'll just throw both on there. I didn't know this and had to give away my last one. Ketchup is for children. If you like ketchup on your hot dogs you should just wrap them in cotton candy when you eat them and shit in your diapers. I'm a man now. I've put childish things behind me. That's why I use mustard. It's brown and can give you that bitter beer face. If you cut him open Kurt Russell would bleed deli style mustard. You wouldn't live long enough to see it but that's what would come out.
I actually don't even like the taste of mustard. I just think that the more I eat it the more bad ass I become. It's like Bruce Wayne training with the League of Shadows to become Batman. You're not doing it to have a good time. If you did everything to have a good time nobody would ever stop drinking margaritas. Ever.
We're talking about manly stuff, drinking and hot dogs. How do we bring it all together? Here's an idea. Another recipe. Picklebacks are really popular right now. They are a shot. They taste a little funky. Get you drunk. And they're fun. You can do the same thing with hot dogs. I call it "a wiener back." Although I'm also entertaining the idea of "hot wiener" or "hot dick"
Shake or scrape some of the sweat off the dogs and put them in big squirt bottle. This will take a lot of work but Rudy's moves a ton of dogs. Keep it warm. Not hot but you don't want to let it get cold. What's grosser than cold hot dog juice am I right? You use a double shot glass. I don't want to cheat you on the alcohol here. Fill it half with the juice and half with tequila. Because they already use whiskey in picklebacks and I've already given a recipe for a vodka drink before. Then float a little 151 on top and light it on fire. Showmanship.
One last thing on Rudy's. They have awesome booths. Beat up red leather with a red light hanging over head. It's like you are in a raunchy 70's strip club. People have been grinded right where you are sitting and it feels like it could happen to you at any moment. It won't. It's still fun though.
Somebody recently complained that I only go to shitty places. And that was before I came here. I like these places though. I don't want to pay a lot of money and I like free food and I like just hanging out. I don't want a meat market or a dancing time or any of that. I want to sit. And drink. And maybe completely dominate an awesome jukebox. Bet my friends in a game of pool. Even though I'm terrible at it. Maybe when I take a piss and I miss all over the place I don't feel obligated to clean it. That's nice too.
