The Phenomenon: Summer drinking pitfalls.
The Bars: The Brazen Head, Musical Box, Zum Schneider, The Porch
Well, summer seems to be coming back again.
It’s getting warm and sticky, the odors of piss and garbage that were frozen all winter are ripening pungently, and fancy chicks are getting their toenails done. That also means that it’s time for the great bar real estate flip flop, wherein the mostly-outdoor-space bars that were overstuffed and stifling in the winter can throw open the doors to their gardens and sidewalk seating, tripling their capacities. Unfortunately for us booze patrons, this is not always the sweet deal it seems, on the surface, to be. So as a gearing up for summer public service to our slower readers, "Zeitgeist Jamboree" presents:
The Top Three Outdoor Drinking Pitfalls:
1. Shithole Gardens: This may seem obvious, but it’s amazing how many bars have tons of out-front signage braying about gardens that blow big time. Perfect example? The Brazen Head (Atlantic and Boerum Place). Man, their back yard is like four cubic feet of decaying lawn furniture, mud, and moribund fencing. Musical Box (13th and B) is also guilty of this. Beware.
2. The Crowding Paradox: You’d think that 40 extra seats would mean less crowding, right? But too bad for you, dumdum, because drunk people expand to fill all available space. Not to mention that the draw of having outdoor seating pulls in ten times more boozer biomass than there are new outdoor seats. I mean, it’s New York, we live like those chickens you see on the PETA ads: we can’t wait for the chance to peck our beaks into nubs fighting for picnic tables wedged between tenements. Take your pick for this phenomenon: Zum Schneider (7th and C) and the Porch (8th and C) prove that two of ‘em in one block only increases the crowding.
3. It’s Fucking Summer: In case you hadn’t noticed, summer in New York can be, how do you say, disgusting — hot, sticky air infused with clouds of aerosolized dirt and hobo sweat. I understand the drive to gather your vitamin D while ye may, but dang, folks, it can get nasty outside! That’s why our monied overlords retreat to the Hamptons! Why people who spend winter wisely snuggled in their jammies rebuff the advances of sweet, sweet air conditioning come August is a mystery to me, but then, I grew up in Texas. There, the only thing better than AC is Jesus. Jesus and guns.