Anyway, this is about drinking, so lets talk about that. Last night I went out to the Blind Tiger, where I have been before. Unfortunately, I don't remember ever being there before, as I was entertaining a British colleague (back when I had a real job) and he was quite the traveler and drinker. Having 25 years and 75 pounds on me, I was drunk into submission while he chatted with my then girlfriend. Good times. A fine little bar with a history on the NYC scene, tucked neatly into the last vestiges of Bleecker Street- by the cheese shop, butcher and bread place. You could be in olde New York, if it weren't for
Still, a good bar. I was on a quest to drink some Sixpoint beers- named after that hipster star people get tattooed on them, though once a nautical symbol, their website tells me. But no luck (I even checked Beer Menus the day before). I had a IPA from Chelsea on 'Gravity' and the Green Flash IPA. I preferred the latter, it had more malt backbone and a higher FG to balance the hops. Both good beers.
Lots of local chatter, but I couldn't start a conversation. I got up for a moment to get some free cheese and bread (from the neighbors) and some dude took my seat. Chasing him off of it might have been the manliest thing I've done at a bar since college, though all were relatively polite about it. Not polite enough to 1. Notice the half full pint at my seat, or, 2. Ask the dude next to me if it was occupied, but hey, they still let people from 'The Island' into town.
Later this week I'll post some images of the city rubbing salt in the wounds of the bankers who tried to ruin it. Also, beer menus = amazing, check it out.