February 2008

You already know bars in NYC, and clubs in any city, are way too pricey with their drinks. 12 bucks for a fucking G&T? Blow me. You ever feel guilty of spending way too much money at a bar, even though you willfully chose to go there and you willfully chose to take residence in the ridiculously expensive city you live in, or happen to be a native of? Well I do all the time.

You ever feel like just bringing your own shit to bars to rebel against those unfair prices? Well I do, all the time. But let me warn you, if you ever actually do bring your own drinks to a bar, never EVER go to a little joint called Kabin Bar & Lounge on the lower east side of Manhattan. (Note: As a matter of principle, I do not call people or businesses out by name on this site, because i am close to broke and cannot handle any kind of lawsuit. But I am so pissed, so ridiculously livid at this particular bar, that I will make a rare exception for them.)

On a recent Thursday night in February of 08', I went out with my buddies Panic, C-Town, and the infamous Casa Nova to our favorite Thursday hangout joint Lit. But Casa Nova could not get in there because he is a dumbass. Nova is 24 and carries around an ID with a picture from when he was 12. It's absolutely a miracle any bouncer is dumb enough to let him in with that ridiculous middle school ID.

So we walked across the street to Kabin, which was decidedly more lenient to letting overgrown children in. We just walked him in, and the plan was to chill there for only a couple of minutes, to show Nova we actually cared about him, and then the members of our gang who actually have competent IDs were to go back inside Lit. I was ready to get my drink on, and wasn't gonna let a little setback stop me. I wasn't ready to pay for a drink at Kabin either, since the bar was basically a stopover. So, I reached into my jacket and cranked out a can o' Bud.

I had a buttload of leftover beers left over from Super Bowl Sunday, and I wasn't gonna let an opportunity to kill a couple pass me by, so I was rolling that night with cans in the pocket. I thought nothing of it when I first cracked the can open and took my first few sips. This place was a hole in the wall anyway, so I didn't think anyone would really give a shit. That's when I recieved a sharp tap on the back.

I turn around to see a snarling monster of a woman standing ON TOP of the bar. Breathing fire and brimstone and all that other shit, she screamed at me, in a thick Long Island accent: "Gimme ya damn Budweiser! Yeah, you. Ya hear me? GIMME THE FUCKING BUDWEISER RIGHT NOW before I kick your face in!"

Stunned and overwhelmed by this beast disguised as a bartender, I just said, in a truly intimidated tone, "OK, I'm sorry", before handing it over. She grabbed it from me angrily and crushed the can with her bare hands, spilling the remainder of its contents all over the bar, with a force I have never seen in a woman outside of WWE's Chyna. Oh that's fine, bitch. That's OK, I got something for ya later on.

Immediately afterwards I turned around to see Casa Nova and Co. laughing their asses off. Ever ones for sympathy, they were sitting back and enjoying the show as usual. The Scottydukes Drinks and Gets Into Stupid Shit Show has replaced all their favorite movies. Losers.

I grabbed C-Town and Panic right away and gave them a line they have heard literally millions of times in the two years we have all been going out in Manhattan: "Guys listen. We have to leave this place. NOW!" Usually being ones for sympathy, those guys respond with something unanimous like "OK. see ya Scotty" or "Laate", before sticking around as a group to enjoy watching the situation, and my anger, escalate. Such as in "Terror on Ludlow St." But feeling as much disgust with Nova as with me, this time they actually complied, leaving for Lit.

This visit to Lit was uneventful, so I suggested we all stay there. But my buddies somehow missed the presence of Casa Nova. So they decided to go back over to Kabin and rejoin him, before going wherever the hell he wants to go. Obviously being nice guys, my friends have never heard of the term "Demonstrating Higher Value".

OK. Going back to Kabin was fine with me. I had some unfinished business there, if you know what I mean. I had to finish the job I started with big ol' Dragon Bitch. I needed to prove that I was not scared of her. So upon my entry I immediately sauntered up to the bar, yet again. Showing no sign of recognition, or any hint of the vitriol she had blasted at me earlier, she came up and asked me plainly: "How can I help you?"

Of course I ordered a PBR, the cheapest and most disgusting drink known to man. And then... get ready. if you read about my adventures of Cockblasting throughout the East Village, you know damn well what's coming next. C'mon, you can even say it with me: "Her tip was nowhere to be found". Then, in typical asshole fashion, I turned around and ran off to another corner of the bar, not even acknowledging the fact I just shortchanged her tip. But once again, I underestimated what magical powers this evil sorceress possessed.

I was barely able to take 2 steps after completely shortchanging this bitch, before all of the music at the bar abruptly stopped. It was almost something out of a Hollywood movie, when all music or side chatter in a scene abruptly stops, and all eyes in the room are automatically directed at the two main characters as a confrontation erupts. Except this was real fucking life.

"EXCUSE ME" Dragon Bitch bellowed, as all eyes turned to the monstrous figure standing on top of the bar. "HOW DARE YOU not leave me a fucking tip. First you sneak a fucking Budweiser in here, then you fucking play me like that. You, out of this bar! NOW! ENOUGH OF THIS! she screamed, as the room shook. All I could do in response was whimper in fear. "I, um, I... OK I'm leaving right now. Sorry for any trouble". I ran for the exit. Victory in her hands, Dragon Bitch jumped back down to from her perch and magically resumed the music.

The three members of my crew were standing near the exit. They knew the speech that was coming. But this time they were not so lenient. "Um, we're drinking here" C-Town replied to my desperate plea for us all to vacate. "We'll meet you outside dude". Fine. But I sure as hell wasn't wasting another second in this dragon's lair. Upon leaving, I told the bar's bouncer to "have a shitty night". He told me to never come back again.

And how long did these assholes make me wait outside, in the freezing cold? 15 minutes. Upon his exit, Casa Nova started cracking up. It took him a good minute of laughter before he finally got a word out: "You... why.... why do you do this?" Being in my pissed off, "you wanna start shit with me, motherfucker?" drunk form, I got right in his face and challenged him to give me one good reason to disagree that she was an absolute bitch for even caring that I brought beer into her bar, and turning off the fucking music with psychic powers to call me out in front of everyone. Then I called him out for having a middle school ID. I expected Panic and C-town to side with me at this point and bust out laughing. But their lines were drawn, and in this case they were clearly in Nova's corner.

Being a veteran bartender himself, Casa Nova had some choice words in response: "I have been to more bars with you than anyone, and I can conclude that you are every bartender's worst nightmare. Next time you come in my bar, I won't give you two seconds of my time. She was absolutely right to do what she did, because you are rude to us, disrespectful to us, you are basically scum. To a bartender, you are essentially all the evil forces in this planet combined into one man. You, Scotty Dukes, are the Antichrist of Bars!"

My response to him was "So, you are the Antichrist of Higher Education". Weak and uncalled for. At that point, C-Town just signed off: "Well, I guess I'll see you, dude" before the three of them unanimously walked away, hopped into a cab, and continued on to another bar, without having to worry about the Antichrist.

But seriously, how the hell did Nova come up with that statement? He knows his shit eh? With a literary reference like that, he must be like the Jack White of bartenders. So you know what, you might as well get behind me, satan!

I hereby accept my appointment as the Antichrist of Bars! I needed a new personality for the year 2008 anyway, so this might as well be it. And as for Kabin, they got their wish- I am never coming back. They don't need my business anyway. But if there are any brave warriors out there who think they can take on the Dragon Bitch and live to tell about it, then hey, you know where to go. Just whatever you do, don't tell them I sent ya.