Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Bryan's First Time
Bryan shares the following story:
I remember my first time at Yogi's rather easily, because it's the first and only time I have ever been there during daylight hours. A few friends of mine and I were looking for a bar to watch Game 3 of the 2002 Eastern Conference Finals in basketball, the Celtics vs. the Nets, and somehow, some way, Yogi's got mentioned. We walked in and there was NO ONE there, but this was back when they had the projection screen TV in the back of the main room. They may still have it and keep it under wraps for the 2 a.m. crowd, which is to say, me, every other time.
Anyhow, five or so of us settled in, ordered some beers and sat in some chairs arranged in a semicircle around the screen. This turned out to be, by the way, the biggest comeback game for the Celtics — the team we were all rooting for — in NBA history, and by the fourth quarter we were exulting all over the fucking place. But still: nobody there. It was only like 7 o'clock or so, and by the time the Celtics won and Paul Pierce jumped on the scorer's table, swinging the towel around in ecstasy, we were hyped up to an unbelievable degree, and we exiting onto the street into the (still!) daylight, pleased as punch.
I had a great fucking time that day. But it pales in comparison to pretty much every other time I've been there, with Yogi's in its loud, drunken, stinking glory, the last refuge (unless you count the Patriot, obviously. And I don't) for truly scumbag drinking after the Village Idiot closed. There's time yet to kill a few more PBRs and brain cells, wade through three inches worth of muck to take a piss, have intimate, loving, three hour relationships in the booths, so this ain't quite the end. But you can be damn sure you won't catch me there during the day.
I remember my first time at Yogi's rather easily, because it's the first and only time I have ever been there during daylight hours. A few friends of mine and I were looking for a bar to watch Game 3 of the 2002 Eastern Conference Finals in basketball, the Celtics vs. the Nets, and somehow, some way, Yogi's got mentioned. We walked in and there was NO ONE there, but this was back when they had the projection screen TV in the back of the main room. They may still have it and keep it under wraps for the 2 a.m. crowd, which is to say, me, every other time.
Anyhow, five or so of us settled in, ordered some beers and sat in some chairs arranged in a semicircle around the screen. This turned out to be, by the way, the biggest comeback game for the Celtics — the team we were all rooting for — in NBA history, and by the fourth quarter we were exulting all over the fucking place. But still: nobody there. It was only like 7 o'clock or so, and by the time the Celtics won and Paul Pierce jumped on the scorer's table, swinging the towel around in ecstasy, we were hyped up to an unbelievable degree, and we exiting onto the street into the (still!) daylight, pleased as punch.
I had a great fucking time that day. But it pales in comparison to pretty much every other time I've been there, with Yogi's in its loud, drunken, stinking glory, the last refuge (unless you count the Patriot, obviously. And I don't) for truly scumbag drinking after the Village Idiot closed. There's time yet to kill a few more PBRs and brain cells, wade through three inches worth of muck to take a piss, have intimate, loving, three hour relationships in the booths, so this ain't quite the end. But you can be damn sure you won't catch me there during the day.
My First Time
I really wish I had a great story about my first time at Yogi's. Unfortunately, I don't remember it. And I don't even mean that I got wasted and blacked out, I mean that I don't remember exactly when I first went there. I was already going to the Village Idiot fairly often. I remember walking down Broadway during the daylight hours one weekend, seeing some shady bar and saying, "hey, that place looks cool, we should check it out sometime." But, I think it took me awhile to finally get there. And I'm not sure if I learned that it was affiliated with the Village Idiot before or after I stumbled in.
Here's one thing I can tell you about my first time at Yogi's: I had a great time. How do I know? Because I always have a great time at Yogi's. It's impossible not to. It doesn't matter if you're in a good mood or bad mood, if it's crowded or empty, if it's a hot summer day or the middle of a blizzard - Yogi's is always a good time. It's hard to find bars like that. How often do you say "hey, you want to go to blah blah blah," and the answer is "I don't know, last time we went it was too crowded/too empty/the crowd was weird/they had a shitty band playing..." With Yogi's, none of it matters. You're guaranteed that there will be cheap ice cold cans of PBR (or pitchers if that's your thing), loud country music, friendly bartenders wearing minimal clothing, and lots of people having a good time. Okay, if it's Monday night, there might not be that many patrons, but they'll still be having a good time. And that's the thing with Yogi's, the demographics are a little unpredictable - there will be some legit Southerners, some college kids, some old guys, maybe a group of girls looking to dance on a bar, maybe some people who wandered over from a show at the Beacon - but, it doesn't matter. Because everyone at Yogi's is there to have a good time. The place just has an infectious spirit. Even the people who've never heard any of the songs before can appreciate the enthusiasm of those who are singing along. Heck, if you'd asked me who David Allan Coe was 10 years ago, I would've given you a blank stare. Now, I'm one of the people leading the sing-a-long.
Here's one thing I can tell you about my first time at Yogi's: I had a great time. How do I know? Because I always have a great time at Yogi's. It's impossible not to. It doesn't matter if you're in a good mood or bad mood, if it's crowded or empty, if it's a hot summer day or the middle of a blizzard - Yogi's is always a good time. It's hard to find bars like that. How often do you say "hey, you want to go to blah blah blah," and the answer is "I don't know, last time we went it was too crowded/too empty/the crowd was weird/they had a shitty band playing..." With Yogi's, none of it matters. You're guaranteed that there will be cheap ice cold cans of PBR (or pitchers if that's your thing), loud country music, friendly bartenders wearing minimal clothing, and lots of people having a good time. Okay, if it's Monday night, there might not be that many patrons, but they'll still be having a good time. And that's the thing with Yogi's, the demographics are a little unpredictable - there will be some legit Southerners, some college kids, some old guys, maybe a group of girls looking to dance on a bar, maybe some people who wandered over from a show at the Beacon - but, it doesn't matter. Because everyone at Yogi's is there to have a good time. The place just has an infectious spirit. Even the people who've never heard any of the songs before can appreciate the enthusiasm of those who are singing along. Heck, if you'd asked me who David Allan Coe was 10 years ago, I would've given you a blank stare. Now, I'm one of the people leading the sing-a-long.
Who Am I? Why Am I Here?
According to nycbp, Yogi's will be closing sometime this winter.
I'm not an expert on Yogi's - I don't know when it opened and I don't know why there's a bear outside (I've been told it's a remnant of the previous establishment). I've gone many times over the years, but I'm not a "regular." I've had a few brief exchanges with Tom (the owner) and some of the bartenders, but nothing more. In other words, I'm sure there are people much more qualified to wax poetic about this fine establishment, but I'm here to share my own thoughts on a bar I've enjoyed many an evening at over the years. I hope others will join me, so if you want to share any stories about Yogi's, send them to me at yogistribute@gmail.com, and I'll post 'em.
I'm not an expert on Yogi's - I don't know when it opened and I don't know why there's a bear outside (I've been told it's a remnant of the previous establishment). I've gone many times over the years, but I'm not a "regular." I've had a few brief exchanges with Tom (the owner) and some of the bartenders, but nothing more. In other words, I'm sure there are people much more qualified to wax poetic about this fine establishment, but I'm here to share my own thoughts on a bar I've enjoyed many an evening at over the years. I hope others will join me, so if you want to share any stories about Yogi's, send them to me at yogistribute@gmail.com, and I'll post 'em.
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