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mg

no one fights without a reason, part two

by mg at 03:11 PM on July 16, 2001

So, after a year, I think I’ve found my local bar.

To describe the place is kind of tough. Well, so far I’ve been calling it (and this will only make sense for about five of you) Thumbs East. To explain, my favorite bar back at university was this total dive called Thumbs. It was just a block from my house, and away from the part of town where all the traditional college bars were. So Thumbs wasn’t just a place for drunken frat boys to pick up even drunker sorority girls. Thumbs was totally relaxed, the music was never too loud, the drinks were cheap, and there was a good mix of college students and townies. My new favorite bar, Legends is the New York City equivalent to Thumbs. Close, cheap, and casual.

Close; Legends is a block from my house. Cheap; Well, this is New York, so that might be too much to ask, but at least I’m not paying Manhattan prices for drinks. Casual; Probably the best aspect Legends is that it is a total working class bar. I don’t think that in my entire life I’ve ever been around so many off-duty police officers.

Since finding it a week ago, I’ve been back three times. Maybe it isn’t good to go out drinking three nights in one week, but I don’t care. Call me an alcoholic, if you want. I also went out drinking two other nights last week. Maybe I am an alcoholic.

Anyway, the first time I went in there, it was mid afternoon on a Monday and the place was kind of empty. Legends is a total working class, blue-collar bar. When I went in, there were maybe 10 people in there. It looked like a convention of off-duty police officers. I don’t think any of them actually were off duty police officers, but imagine the old school detectives from NYPD Blue, and you’ve got the clientele from Legends down pat. I kept thinking I’d turn around and see Dennis Franz’s ass at any second.

The people in there were very friendly. It was obvious that everyone in there knew each other, but they took the time out to welcome Amanda and I to the bar. If my name was Norm, and they knew that my name was Norm, I’m sure that they would have yelled out “Norm” when I walked in. And if the bartender had asked me what’d I say to nice cold beer, and I had responded with “What’s a nice beer like you doing in a face like this?” the entire studio audience would have erupted in laughter.

So, Amanda and I sat, had a couple beers, and soaked up the local color. We occasionally engaged the regulars in conversation, mostly about Lizzie Grubmann, and we laughed at some of their lame jokes and made a few of our own. It was all very nice and cozy.

One of the things I hate about New York bars is how damn loud they turn the music up. If you get to a bar at say, 7 or 8, when no one else is around, any bar in the city will be great. Quiet, cheap, cozy. But as more people show up, and conversations start getting louder, so does the music. By around 11:30, it becomes impossible to hear a single thing anyone else is saying, which might be a good thing, considering how painfully vapid most people you meet in New York bars are. It’s as if the person running the music actually believes people go to bars to hear songs by Vertical Horizon and Christina Aguilerra, rather than to get stinking drunk and talk to people.

The music at Legends has never been too loud, and comes out of a jukebox. And whoever was putting their coins in the machine the first time I went in there sure had some weird taste. The first four songs that played were Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash, Bugaboo by Destiny’s Child, Hell’s Bells by AC/DC, and Dumb by Nirvana (from the unplugged disc). If that wasn’t enough to instantly seal my love for the place, it gets better.

Later in the afternoon one of the guys got up to leave, he said goodbye to everyone, and went outside to ride his bike home. He came back in seconds later, to tell the crowd that someone had stolen his bike. He went back outside to ask some of the neighborhood folks who hang outside the bodega at the corner and, in a true sign that you are in a good bar, the bartender, and a couple of the other guys who were chilling with their brews, went outside with him to provide back up if he needed it.

My neighborhood, while not the best, can be unsafe at times. It is New York, after all. But, when it comes down to it, while there might be crime, it really is pretty safe. The idea that the bartender, a big burly Irish guy, and a couple of the other bar regulars would be willing to go outside and get in a fight over a stolen bicycle is really cool. I want to go to a bar where I know if I got into a fight someone will have my back.

Not that I’ve ever gotten into a bar-fight before, or have that as one of the items on my life long goal list, but if I were to get into a fight, I’d like to know there was a big burly Irish guy who’d step up to help me out, especially considering what a big pussy I really am.

Oi! If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got this problem where I use entirely too many words to relate stories than is necessary in most cases. I really have only meant to spend one damn post on this bar, and I’ve already done three! I hope you don’t mind, but as this post is already creeping towards around 1000 words, I’ll save the recounting of the fight that actually did happen for another day.

comments (1)

Thumbs East, I love it. I never saw a fight at Thumbs, but I did see a few very tactfully defused by the bartenders there.

Does Legeneds allow dogs on the premises?

by space at July 16, 2001 4:19 PM