Of Patriot and PBR

Source: Yelp

Source: Yelp

Just a couple weekends ago, I had one of my best friends, Michael, visit me in Brooklyn. In fact, the visit turned to an absolutely fantastic weekend. To be fully frank, I have not had a weekend like that since I have graduated from college. To put it in perspective, all we did was drink, play Pro Evolution Soccer on Wii and eat good food. In other words we did absolutely nothing and it felt great! To elaborate even further, the weekend ended up being a complete waste for both of us.

Probably the focal point of Mike’s visit came Saturday night, when we decided to make it out to “The Patriot” (Church and Chambers), an establishment that a descriptor “dive” does not do justice. Let me elaborate on that:

First, if one does not step out of the joint and all the sudden be surrounded by historic buildings of Downtown Manhattan, the bar might as well be at a trucker stop at Rock Springs, Wyoming.

Second, “The Patriot” serves a mysterious adult beverage officially called “Our Beer” and it goes for something close to $2 a pint, which cheaper, I shall note, than even PBR at $3 a pop. On the side note, since I have not noticed a beer kettle or a fermentation chamber of any kind,  I would speculate that the way “Our Beer” is “brewed” is analogous to the way the “New Jersey Turnpike” shot is “mixed.”

Third, PBR is available on tap, which makes it the first Pabst on tap I have encountered in the New York City and as the result makes “The Patriot” a big thumbs up in my book.

Finally, the jukebox at “The Patriot” is full of Johnny Cash and other similarly vintage country.

Of course, the drink of choice that night ended up being a pitcher of PBR, which seemed like good idea at the time. However, a few hours later, the next morning, I felt like I have not felt since college days of drinking Keystone Light kegs at a house party. Combination of a headache drilling through the skull, a sour PBR taste in the mouth, the lack of sleep, in addition to Michael’s complaining of how PBR “makes [him] fart” naturally accompanied with the subject of the matter made this the worst hangover I have experienced in a long time.

To sum up, I did have a great time, and I did find PBR on tap in NYC, but I also found out that drinking Pabst in unproportional quantities often results in pretty miserable mornings.

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