Tuesday, July 27, 2004

The Bar You've Been Practicing For: There probably won't be any pretty stories today. After last night's experiments with pills and whiskey, I'm simply too hungover to push any words from my brain to my fingertips, and from there to the keyboard and the interwebby. The words keep getting caught somewhere near my elbows. Ah, well. I'll be doing it all again tonight at the Village Idiot, saying goodbye to the old joint. Probably around happy hour.

In the meantime, here are a couple of links to the closing of the Village Idiot.
The Idiot, labeled "The bar you've been practicing for," has operated in its current location for nine years, and for a few more before that on First Avenue in the East Village. Like all of Mr. McNeil's taverns, it offers a venerable country jukebox, utterly unpleasant restrooms and scantily clad female bartenders with hearts of gold. It's what Mr. McNeil thinks a bar should be.
[As Dive Bar Mogul Takes a Rest, Don't Rule Out Another Round: New York Times.]

I went back to the Village Idiot for one last visit. It was a sleepy Sunday and when I arrived about half a dozen men sat at the bar drinking beer and ogling Michelle, the buxom blonde bartender who was wearing a cowboy hat. Several of the beer taps were out. There was no running water in the toilets. Tiny flies swarmed and scurried about the warped wood of the bar.

Over the bar was posted a large sign notifying its patrons about the bar's upcoming closing. The sign read in part: WE THANK YOU FOR YEARS OF GREAT TIMES -- ESPECIALLY THE ONES WE (AND YOU) ACTUALLY REMEMBER!!
[Greenwich Village Loses Its ‘Idiot’:Knot Magazine.]