Who plays the jukebox during a game? O'Leary's does, that's who. I was trying to watch UConn play Gardner Webb while listening to the strains of "Dude Looks Like a Lady" and some other crap. Granted, the game was a blowout, but how many times do college hoops teams play a year?
In any case, there used to be a bar in Rocky Hill which I liked called the Arch. But they tore that down about a year ago. There was another one called The Office. I never set foot in the place, but one of my brothers told me that it was a dive of the lowest order. The owners bought an old Bickford's that shut down, moved their operation there and called it O'Leary's. The Office crowd came over, too. This bunch of oxygen thiefs remind me of the cast from Idiocracy. Ow! My balls! I have a buddy that gets his mail at a shot & beer hole in the wall. He didn't feel safe when I brought him there.
I grabbed a $2.75 Bud Light. I could've had a Tom Collins. The gals there do know how to make them. I had one last Thursday when I swung by there around Happy Hour time. I guess that it's supposed to be a summer drink, but I was in the mood for one that day. Saw some folks from a bank that day. The rest of the crowd was arguing what kind of backhoe was better. A few days before that, I stopped by to catch the second half of the Pats-Colts game. Talked to one guy there who seemed to have his head on straight, but he and his buddy were refugees. they were looking for the Bunker (which was closed, of course) and wound up motoring down the Silas Deane until they found this place. He'd never been to O'Leary's before. They have good wings. I'm not sure if I've ever had any of there other food, but it looks appetizing.
It's a step up from the Airport Road or the Old Town, but that's like saying that Breeder's Choice tastes better than IAM's or Purina. It's still dog food and it's kinda embarassing to admit that you actually know this.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
At it's best this camp is forbidding to new arrivals.
I want to like this place. I really do. But I can't.
I moved to Wethersfield about eight years ago and have been visiting the Old Town Tavern on and off since then. Beers are cheap. A Bud used to be $1.85. They remodeled a bit (but it's still a dive) and the Buds are up to $2.50. Yeah, you can't really get anything fancier than a shot or a beer. AFAIK, they don't carry any sour mix or vermouth. But that's not the problem.
It's a townie place. Every time I go there it's pretty much the same folks sitting in the same seats. And they've all known each other since the third grade. And they put crappy music in that internet jukebox. It's tough to get accepted into a culture like that. The funny thing is that the place is in the snooty Old Wethersfield part of town but it is populated by the type of folks that wouldn't quite fit in with the insurance execs that live around that neighborhood.
I went there the other nite to catch UConn on ESPNU (basketball this time.) At least they had it unlike the Airport Road. But while I was waiting, I wanted to put some music on. If a song is already downloaded into the system, it's only 50 cents, but it cost a buck if it wasn't. I had a hankering for some "Screenwriters Blues" by Soul Coughing, but it wasn't even available. So six Bud Lights, when you factor in tip and music, came to @ $30 anyways. Makes it a tough place for a mixanthropologist to do a field study.
BTW, it's right down the street from someplace where George Washington met General Rochambeau to discuss some strategy during the American Revolution. The graffiti on the men's room wall dates back to those days.
I moved to Wethersfield about eight years ago and have been visiting the Old Town Tavern on and off since then. Beers are cheap. A Bud used to be $1.85. They remodeled a bit (but it's still a dive) and the Buds are up to $2.50. Yeah, you can't really get anything fancier than a shot or a beer. AFAIK, they don't carry any sour mix or vermouth. But that's not the problem.
It's a townie place. Every time I go there it's pretty much the same folks sitting in the same seats. And they've all known each other since the third grade. And they put crappy music in that internet jukebox. It's tough to get accepted into a culture like that. The funny thing is that the place is in the snooty Old Wethersfield part of town but it is populated by the type of folks that wouldn't quite fit in with the insurance execs that live around that neighborhood.
I went there the other nite to catch UConn on ESPNU (basketball this time.) At least they had it unlike the Airport Road. But while I was waiting, I wanted to put some music on. If a song is already downloaded into the system, it's only 50 cents, but it cost a buck if it wasn't. I had a hankering for some "Screenwriters Blues" by Soul Coughing, but it wasn't even available. So six Bud Lights, when you factor in tip and music, came to @ $30 anyways. Makes it a tough place for a mixanthropologist to do a field study.
BTW, it's right down the street from someplace where George Washington met General Rochambeau to discuss some strategy during the American Revolution. The graffiti on the men's room wall dates back to those days.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Oh, Just One More Thing
While the Airport Road Cafe had a few college football games on, they didn't have the UConn-Cincinnati game on. I guess that they don't get ESPNU. Another black mark against them.
About last nite
If you guys think that I am going to tell this narrative in a linear fashion, you'll be disappointed. I'm just going to post whatever comes to mind and flash forward and backward without regard for a master plan.
Last nite, I went to see The Darjeeling Limited at whatever they call the old Cinema City in Hartford. Some folks like to have a drink before a flight. I like to have one before seeing a movie in a theater. I forget the name of the bar in Buckland where I saw Superbad, but I'll try and write about that experience someday.
Up the road a bit is a place called The Airport Road Cafe. I've never been there before, and I can see why. It's a hole-in-the-wall. The matronly lady behind the bar was able to make me a passable Manhattan (this hasn't always been the case during my wanderings), but I wasn't able to get a BLT. No grill or cook or something. Some loudmouth named Manny was wearing a Fonzie jacket and kept pestering the bartender. "Hey Grandma!" he'd say "I want a cheeseburger." The rest of the clientele looked like carpenters or sheetrockers who had to work that day and wer relaxing afterwards. The two guys I talked to seemed relatively friendly.
From the outside, the place looked like a jail (or a strip bar). I didn't notice any windows poking out of the stuccoed exterior. The inside didn't look too bad, but it stank of generic cigarette smoke (this is one of two places I've noticed that defy Connecticut's ban on smoking in bars. I applaud this civil disobedience, but it always makes me do a doubletake.) The place has a stage for cover bands. I'm not sure what the crowd's like when Diamondback or Texas Flood plays (two of the bands on the schedule), but it didn't seem like a happy place on an early Saturday evening in November. What's kind of weird is that the bar is on the border of a residential area heavily populated by Hispanics on one side and an industrial wasteland on the other side but most of the patrons were white bluecollar Harley types.
I settled for a roast beef on rye. That and the drink came to $11.
Last nite, I went to see The Darjeeling Limited at whatever they call the old Cinema City in Hartford. Some folks like to have a drink before a flight. I like to have one before seeing a movie in a theater. I forget the name of the bar in Buckland where I saw Superbad, but I'll try and write about that experience someday.
Up the road a bit is a place called The Airport Road Cafe. I've never been there before, and I can see why. It's a hole-in-the-wall. The matronly lady behind the bar was able to make me a passable Manhattan (this hasn't always been the case during my wanderings), but I wasn't able to get a BLT. No grill or cook or something. Some loudmouth named Manny was wearing a Fonzie jacket and kept pestering the bartender. "Hey Grandma!" he'd say "I want a cheeseburger." The rest of the clientele looked like carpenters or sheetrockers who had to work that day and wer relaxing afterwards. The two guys I talked to seemed relatively friendly.
From the outside, the place looked like a jail (or a strip bar). I didn't notice any windows poking out of the stuccoed exterior. The inside didn't look too bad, but it stank of generic cigarette smoke (this is one of two places I've noticed that defy Connecticut's ban on smoking in bars. I applaud this civil disobedience, but it always makes me do a doubletake.) The place has a stage for cover bands. I'm not sure what the crowd's like when Diamondback or Texas Flood plays (two of the bands on the schedule), but it didn't seem like a happy place on an early Saturday evening in November. What's kind of weird is that the bar is on the border of a residential area heavily populated by Hispanics on one side and an industrial wasteland on the other side but most of the patrons were white bluecollar Harley types.
I settled for a roast beef on rye. That and the drink came to $11.
Out of Egypt
Aloha.
I hung out a bit at a place called The Bunker in Wethersfield, Connecticut. It wasn't the best bar in the world, but it was convenient to work and home, some of the staff was easy on the eyes, and I made a few brassrail acquaintances. They closed in August to remodel into someplace called The Wild Rover. At first, it was only going to be closed for a month. But there have been some delays in the meantime.
As a result, I've been cast out into the desert to wander around for forty beers. This is a chronicle of some of those wanderings.
I hung out a bit at a place called The Bunker in Wethersfield, Connecticut. It wasn't the best bar in the world, but it was convenient to work and home, some of the staff was easy on the eyes, and I made a few brassrail acquaintances. They closed in August to remodel into someplace called The Wild Rover. At first, it was only going to be closed for a month. But there have been some delays in the meantime.
As a result, I've been cast out into the desert to wander around for forty beers. This is a chronicle of some of those wanderings.
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