Loisada visit to see Bishop Allen was disrupted by an unexpected sold-out status with Sher and I ticket-less. She was disappointed; I was too ignorant to be disappointed. General expungence of the last two weeks' saga ensued, with delicious pork chops and plaintains mixed in. A visit to The Back Room followed. It's undetermined whether TBR was uncomfortable because of it's relative darkness, the incongruity of its musical selection : its decor, or the fact that their drinks were served in coffee cups, complete with saucers. The blame, for now, fell squarely on the latter, especially considering the bottled beer selection was served wrapped in brown paper bags. Cute. Real cute. This sort of stuff flies if you are an actual speakeasy or if you are serving $2-4 drinks. Neither applied here.
Welcome to the Johnsons fared better. A divey bar that acted as such; aside from being located in the Lower East Side. This either made it more appealing or sure to be slated for demolition, or both.
Came home and set up shop at Life before cashing out the night at the Wreck Room. With a question:
Who is more annoying:
a) person who dumps approximately the cost of an album into a jukebox in order to hear its entirety?
b) person who breaks up the current house music/jukebox vibe with a slew of depressingly ponderous selections?
c) person who uses "play mine first" feature repeatedly when it's clear that people have been waiting for their stuff for a while?