Murder Bar

They say where you drink is a reflection of you.... If this is the case then man am I in trouble.

You see I don't like the bar where I regularly drink. It's dark and dingy and has a terrible selection of beers, however I find myself there at least twice a week.

The Watering Hole is less than a block away from work, this means that after a stressful shift where you reek of Barbeque sauce there is really only one place to go. I've tried to champion other bars, in fact Crocodile lounge with its free pizza with every beer threatened to topple the hellhole that is our local, it just couldn't bring in the numbers and fell by the wayside.

Perhaps the worst thing about The Hole is the karaoke, dear sweet lord the karaoke. I have had some interesting experiences revolving around that microphone. Hell I've sung when I've had a few to many and I can just about get away with it, but the problem is when pissed up girls belt out 'It's Raining Men' it makes me want to cry. The most interesting aspect of karaoke is when the Mafia come to drink in the bar. You see the Mafia get what they want and when they say it's their turn to sing, it's their turn to sing. There is a catch to this, you see they sing the same fucking song every... single... time. Even more messed up is when you try to sing the song that they always do. Halfway through your rendition you will feel a thick Italian hand hand on your shoulder followed by the pasta breath of someone quietly explaining that you can't sing that song because it is reserved for a friend. It is at this point you drop the microphone and leave the bar.
Perhaps the most surreal moment was watching actor William Hurt singing the song with the Mafia before hitting on every young black girl in the bar.
No matter how drunk or sober I am, no matter what day of the week it is I always seem to end up at The Hole. Even on my birthday at 4:30am I suddenly realized that I was standing in a room with a familiar dank smell. At the point I stumbled home.

But by far and away the most frustrating thing about the Hole is the fact there is no reception there. It's like it is a vortex and once inside you can never escape, at no point can you call a mate to see where they are because that involves walking outside into the cold New York air.
Nothing good comes of a night in The Hole, you either leave to drunk and are annoyed you got wasted for no reason, or you leave sober and are annoyed you bothered to buy a couple of drinks.

So Ladies and Gentlemen the reason you haven't heard from me for a few weeks is because I have been trapped. Trapped inside a bar full of shitty sports memorabilia, bad singers, weird smells, terrible beer and a lingering sense of guilt. The Watering Hole. I tell you, if drinks weren't $4 for regulars I'd never go.