A small bar in downtown Athens, I think it was named after the avenue it was located on (Alexandras). It was the first in a long row of fancy bar-restaurants and coffee shops, a beacon of proper drinking and misbehaving; at the same time, most people preferred the bar-restaurants, so it was usually quite deserted.
It was dim, dank, and quite small. It had perhaps ten unsteady wooden tables, the chairs were of the cheap reclining variation you take to a beach, and two barstools. The music was never deafening, but the songs were usually good, mostly classic rock from the 60s and 70s, with some hard (and glam) rock from the 80s tossed in the mix.
The two waitresses working there looked like they were too old for the strip joint they worked at and turned to serve drinks for a living; a couple of shady characters usually lurked in the far-end corner.
As I look back at it now, empowered by hindsight (and the experience of having drunk in many bars), I think it's fair to say its main purpose of existence was to launder the owner's money. Back then, my drinking buddies and I did not care about the shadiness of the place or if our drinks helped legalize illicit earnings. What we cared about was that they'd serve us ice-cold beer and gin and tonics, without giving a damn that we were underage.
It was in that place I received my first proper drink, mixed by someone else. My drinking buddies and I were fourteen at the time (there are advantages in growing up in a country where laws are viewed more as guidelines than something strictly to be obeyed) and we fell in love with gin and the place's atmosphere.
We haunted that place for four years, getting drunk there almost every weekend; we learned to appreciate strong shots, how to sip tequila and bourbon, and how to guzzle beer until pissing your pants sounds more lucrative than dashing to the restroom for the seventh time. We got loud, we sang along to whatever song came through the speakers, we argued politics, and drank adolescent heartbreak away. Never got cut off, never got 86'ed. We did visit other places (mostly nightclubs with no qualms about underage drinking, because it's where the girls were) but we always returned to that tiny bar with the buxom waitresses that had learned our drinking habits and always greeted us with a smile - and usually gave us a couple of shots and a round of gin and tonic on the house during the night.
Sadly, the place shut down at about the time we turned nineteen - I moved away from Greece, and my then-buddies changed their drinking habits and started visiting fancy lounges (several of them eventually quit drinking altogether, the bloody turncoats). First, it transmogrified into a nauseating bar-restaurant owned by a D-list celebrity. Now, it's a bank. I'm not sure which incarnation hurts the most.
So, tonight, I'm raising a toast to that bar, to the shady owner and the lovely waitresses. It's where my liver was baptized in strong booze and that bar is probably the main reason I am still attracted (fifteen years later) to crepuscular dives where they pour them strong and cheap and most patrons are there because no other place will let them in.
Bars we miss
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Re: Bars we miss
Damn. You were super lucky to be able to cut your teeth in a proper bar, and so young at that. Cheers.
Don't worry. We're in no hurry.
- Dear Booze
- Drinking God's Good Scotch
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Re: Bars we miss
I really like this. I hope to read more about adventures in this place.DrunkinEurope wrote: ↑Sat Aug 21, 2021 12:31 pmA small bar in downtown Athens, I think it was named after the avenue it was located on (Alexandras). It was the first in a long row of fancy bar-restaurants and coffee shops, a beacon of proper drinking and misbehaving; at the same time, most people preferred the bar-restaurants, so it was usually quite deserted.
It was dim, dank, and quite small. It had perhaps ten unsteady wooden tables, the chairs were of the cheap reclining variation you take to a beach, and two barstools. The music was never deafening, but the songs were usually good, mostly classic rock from the 60s and 70s, with some hard (and glam) rock from the 80s tossed in the mix.
The two waitresses working there looked like they were too old for the strip joint they worked at and turned to serve drinks for a living; a couple of shady characters usually lurked in the far-end corner.
As I look back at it now, empowered by hindsight (and the experience of having drunk in many bars), I think it's fair to say its main purpose of existence was to launder the owner's money. Back then, my drinking buddies and I did not care about the shadiness of the place or if our drinks helped legalize illicit earnings. What we cared about was that they'd serve us ice-cold beer and gin and tonics, without giving a damn that we were underage.
It was in that place I received my first proper drink, mixed by someone else. My drinking buddies and I were fourteen at the time (there are advantages in growing up in a country where laws are viewed more as guidelines than something strictly to be obeyed) and we fell in love with gin and the place's atmosphere.
We haunted that place for four years, getting drunk there almost every weekend; we learned to appreciate strong shots, how to sip tequila and bourbon, and how to guzzle beer until pissing your pants sounds more lucrative than dashing to the restroom for the seventh time. We got loud, we sang along to whatever song came through the speakers, we argued politics, and drank adolescent heartbreak away. Never got cut off, never got 86'ed. We did visit other places (mostly nightclubs with no qualms about underage drinking, because it's where the girls were) but we always returned to that tiny bar with the buxom waitresses that had learned our drinking habits and always greeted us with a smile - and usually gave us a couple of shots and a round of gin and tonic on the house during the night.
Sadly, the place shut down at about the time we turned nineteen - I moved away from Greece, and my then-buddies changed their drinking habits and started visiting fancy lounges (several of them eventually quit drinking altogether, the bloody turncoats). First, it transmogrified into a nauseating bar-restaurant owned by a D-list celebrity. Now, it's a bank. I'm not sure which incarnation hurts the most.
So, tonight, I'm raising a toast to that bar, to the shady owner and the lovely waitresses. It's where my liver was baptized in strong booze and that bar is probably the main reason I am still attracted (fifteen years later) to crepuscular dives where they pour them strong and cheap and most patrons are there because no other place will let them in.
DRINK!
Re: Bars we miss
Awesome.
I`ve been to many greek islands.
The drunker the better.
Do you skype? That would rock!
I`ve been to many greek islands.
The drunker the better.
Do you skype? That would rock!
Drink!
- DrunkinEurope
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Re: Bars we miss
I'm on the Skype group and one day I'll manage to dig up my old webcam from the box it's been shoved in alongside a lot of old crap and pop up unexpectedly during a call like a mythical, intoxicated madman!
The greatest adventure from that bar took place every time we had to go home. We always managed to wander off into small streets while searching for the subway station, sometimes bumping into cars (fortunately, we never caused any damage, or at least were never caught doing it...). And, of course, the last couple of beers would always crawl into my bladder the moment I reached the platform, where there were no toilets and no corner uncovered by a security camera.Dear Booze wrote: ↑Sat Aug 21, 2021 1:00 pmI really like this. I hope to read more about adventures in this place.
For the most part, most of my memories from those years (and that bar) have amalgamated into one long memory. There were often some questionable and experimental shots coming our way and I'm not sure if the staff just thought we could take it or if they were trying to see what would kill us.
Then, there's the moment we realized we had been accepted by the staff. During a calm Saturday night of drinking (perhaps, two years after we started frequenting the bar), we began arguing about politics and other assorted crap. Of course, being intoxicated and obnoxious youngsters that read a lot and thought they understood what they read, the volume of our voice grew exponentially. There were two couples in the bar (probably ten years older than us and clearly sitting in the bar because they hadn't found a free table at any other place in the area) and the guys took exception to our boisterous debate and came up to the table with bad intentions. One of the shady-looking guys that almost always lurked in the back lumbered up to them, wrapped his arms around their shoulders and, very politely, informed them it was time they paid their tab and fuck off to another place. The guys had no intention of getting into a fight with a dude that looked like he'd done prison time (or should have done prison time), took their girlfriends, and shuffled off. The guy gave us a nod, we mouthed a "thank you", and he returned to the back and his beer. I think that's when you know you belong in a bar; namely, when you're being an asshole and, instead of getting kicked out, the guys complaining about your being an asshole are the ones shown the door.
- Dear Booze
- Drinking God's Good Scotch
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Re: Bars we miss
Yep. That's a great feeling. You know you are in the club.DrunkinEurope wrote: ↑Mon Aug 23, 2021 1:04 pmI think that's when you know you belong in a bar; namely, when you're being an asshole and, instead of getting kicked out, the guys complaining about your being an asshole are the ones shown the door.
Here Comes a Regular
DRINK!
- Artful Drunktective
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Re: Bars we miss
Beer coaster from a bar I miss. I could use some liquid aloha right about now.
Okole maluna!
Re: Bars we miss
Rocky LaRues in Lubbock, TX, home of my alma mater, Texas Tech University.
Within walking distance of campus, one could indulge in $1 Lonestar beers and a $5 burger with fries.
This was my joint of choice when I wasn't buying handles of Wild Turkey for home-base imbibing.
I would gladly make the drive now just to relive those days, but, sadly, it closed down.
Within walking distance of campus, one could indulge in $1 Lonestar beers and a $5 burger with fries.
This was my joint of choice when I wasn't buying handles of Wild Turkey for home-base imbibing.
I would gladly make the drive now just to relive those days, but, sadly, it closed down.
Don't worry. We're in no hurry.
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- Inebriate Savant
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Re: Bars we miss
I miss Seattle bars, now that I live in Georgia.
- Artful Drunktective
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Re: Bars we miss
Lava Lava Beach Club on the Big Isle (Hawaii island). It's still there, I just miss it. Especially during the winter. *silent sobbing ensues*
Okole maluna!
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- Inebriate Savant
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Re: Bars we miss
Lost Weekend
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Re: Bars we miss
The Righteous Room in Atlanta, GA anyone? http://www.stayrighteous.com/
Re: Bars we miss
O'Malley's Pub in Bay City, MI. The owners didn't give a damn about it and let the bartenders do as they wish. The bartenders drank heavily and loved giving out free drinks to the patrons. It was not uncommon to go there and spend less than 10 bucks and walk out completely wasted. Went under after about a year or two of this treatment. Was a true drunkard's paradise, and I still miss 13 years after it bit the dust.
Everything in moderation, including moderation
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Re: Bars we miss
Really? Why don't you visit The Righteous Room in Atlanta?