Sure, it has labeled itself a dive bar (even though it really isn’t)…and yes, it tries to hard to be trashy…and yes, any hipster worth his salt hates “trying” at anything…but the beer is still cold and the girls are still drunk…so we give Superdive the old Runken salute.
In honor of the drunkiest holiday out there, I present Yogi’s, the legendary, but now shuttered Upper West Side Drunkatorium…really, you don’t know Yogi’s? Have you never been to the Beacon? Yogi’s was one of the filthiest, beer swilliest, pukiest, drink til you can’t standiest spots in all the land…where I have seen drunk girls piss themselves and grown (all be it emotionally stunted) men puke all over the bar…and all this with hot chick bartenders…ahhhhh, if that ain’t St. Paddy’s day what is? We miss you Yogi’s…
St. Andrews isn’t as much of a Runk bar as it is a spot that starts off a Runk night. The bar is plain, the beer is cold and the access to much local (or pseudo-local) debauchery abounds. A recent night at St. Andrews to celebrate the birthday of a friend who slaves away nearby the joint started innocently enough…a few beers…a few guys from the Burbs…but as St. Andrews began to unravel its web and spread the night out before us…we ended up in trouble…all of us…if you are in midtown and have an alcohol problem either go to St Andrews or don’t (I can’t decide).
So I cannot give an accurate reporting on McSwiggan’s current state as I was banned from the bar several years ago…but, while management has changed (McSwiggan’s used to be owned by the same guys who own Reservoir) this place used to have THE COLDEST BEER IN NYC (not to mention a great dart board and some of the drunkest girls in the city)…while I have not been there in a long time, I bet some of you youngsters still get all Runk there…and I bet the beer is still cold as hell (Alaska?).
One of the women in my life recently told me that I drank too much and that a lot of my posts focus on drinking and it “isn’t cool.” So, to anger her a little bit more, here comes another new column called Runk (dedicated to Jay Plue and Drunken Rambles). It will focus on old, no frills, no fancy cocktails, bars to go get lit up at. This week, may I present dba, an East Village haunt with a (1) Scotch menu thick enough to sink a ship (that makes no sense), (2) an outdoor patio for those who love to smoke and (3) one of the most vile bathrooms in NYC. Cha-Ching…Triple Threat! You can usually find Drunken Rambles passed out by the back door (just nudge him with your foot…he will move).
