Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Stonewall Inn and The Duplex 22 April 07

SF had: Beer (Stonewall Inn), Slivkens (The Duplex).

SF was out and about solo on Sunday (well, not really solo because his boyfriends were with him), and passed by the Stonewall Inn. The sign out front said that Spring had Sprung, and therefore, beers were two for one. SF is incapable of resisting a two-fer on anything with alcohol in it, so he went in.

Not content to be a historical landmark, Stonewall has apparently determined to become a sports bar. The bartender at Stonewall was Tracy, who announced that they had just ordered "a huge 19" screen." Ninteen inches may be huge for some things, but, um, not when we're talking about television sets.

The bar was not very crowded. The Mets were playing Atlanta, and one patron announced, "Atlanta has paid off the umpire. The game's over." See there! The sports bar is working. Gay Mets fans, go to the Stonewall Inn!

The service was good the beer was cold. SF's review: BOTTOMS UP!


Next, SF and his boyfriends tottered next door to The Duplex and sat outside. Eric was the first server and did a great job, even though his cow-orker (hyphenation intentional) did not show up. Later , Brendan showed up.

In a short while, a gaggle of homosexuals wearing sunglasses, sandals and drawstring clamdiggers decided to wave loudly at passing busses of tourists. SF sat next to a group of middle aged homosexuals from Astoria, who needed to go home to take a nap so that they could return into the city to see a show. They didn't say which one. Maybe it was the Pirate Queen (a show named after SF, incidentally). As they were paying their bill, they decided that 15% was more than enough, and that 10% would often suffice. Faggots from Astoria are CHEAP. SF tipped at least 25%, by the way.

As SF and the boyfriends sat there, a woman walked down 7th Avenue with an honest-to-Jesus parrot on her shoulder. A parrot! It's almost as though she knew that our boys were about to turn into Pirates. (SF has a wooden leg, by the way. A hollow wooden leg, mind you). The parrot was named Angel, I guess. Angel had been apparently sitting on the woman's shoulder for a while, because there was a lot of bird crap on her back. When the woman got to the corner of Christopher Street and 7th Avenue, Angel decided to fly up into a tree. The crap-covered woman was apoplectic. "Come down angel! Come down!" At this point, a large crowd had assembled. People were pointing up in the tree at the bird. SF was pointing at the crap covered woman, though. Eventually the police came.

SF says: "What were they gonna do? Shoot the thing down out of the tree?"




Eventually, Angel flew to another tree. The moral of the story is that birds are like boyfriends. If you're going to take them to The Duplex, clip their wings first.

Our review: BOTTOMS UP!


Stonewall Inn
53 Christopher Street
between West 4th St. and Waverly Place
212.647.8258

The Duplex
61 Christopher Street
(at 7th Ave.)
212.255.5438

1 comment:

DT said...

Uh, SF, I don't think that your low resistance to "two-fers" is limited to alcohol related offers!