Saddest Little Bar Crawl in the World

Bye Brooklyn...I'll miss you.

So this is my last weekend at 390. It's intense. I've lived in this apartment for 3 years and that's a LONG time to live in an NYC rental, especially a crazy 3rd floor walkup in the middle of a Puerto Rican neighborhood. Naturally some kind of proper goodbye was in order and that manifested itself in a last minute, Williamsburg bar crawl. Brilliance. Little did I know, our bar crawl was only going to last through 2 BARS. Sad.

The afternoon started at DuMont Burger. We had the good intention of drinking late into the night, so delish sustenance was necessary. Well, that and a DuMont burger and 3 John Daly's are the best possible way start to anything. Three bites in, J.P. said the burger was so good it gave him a hard on. Classy.

...and burgers are for Badasses.

Not sure if this was before or after the alleged "burger hard-on."

Mmm. Beef.

After DuMont, we walked off our beef coma down Bedford to the Levee. There is some of the most hilarious graffiti in Williamsburg and I just HAD to take one in the face. Sorry Mom.

We found an Ice Cream Truck parking garage. It was sort of perfect.

We finally made our way over to the Levee, and for those of you don't often party in Brooklyn, the Levee is a temple of cheesy poofs, bourbon, and Connect4. By now we had been aggressively drinking Jack Daniels and, luckily for everyone involved, when I drink and play any kind of game I start to talk shit. The Japester didn't stand a chance.

The High Priestess of Darts. And yes, my fly is down. I wonder how long that was going on.

Cheeeeeeesy. Poooooofs.

When we left the bar, we were DRUNK, or at least I was. Everything J.P. said was cracking me up, even though at 7 drinks in, a dancing Tele-Tubby would probably have me in tears. This is also when things started getting a little hazy. We went to some empty bar called Viva Toro that had a cowhide covered mechanical bull and blue lights everywhere. I seriously considered riding the bull, but since the blue lights were making me dizzy, I thankfully vetoed the idea. We ended up hopping in a cab and I went back to 390 hammered for the very last time. Passing out drunk on whiskey at 10pm with all of my clothes on and all of the lights on is the best goodbye I could ever give this apartment.

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