I. Can't. Even.
This place TOTALLY took me back to my days as a pre-med student lol! Totally awkward, no place to relax, and suuuuper rapey. But, I ADORE their rocky road mudslides (virgin of course... With baby carrots Duh!)... It's...you guys, seriously like having a mini Applebees all to myself! handsomely clean, well lit, ZERO open flames. The hosts are great (myself and 37 people on my buttball team were seated within 5 min!) We got a table on the patio because it was snowing out and most of them are from Brooklyn so they have NEVER seen snow.
So, enough about my shattered, in crippling debt youth.. Let's get to the food! RIGHT!?
To start, I had their signature 5 gallon bucket of boneless pork wings with an extra side of 151 buttermilk rum for dipping. Blown. Away.
Could this get better!? .... Or am I going to die tonight like I planned?!
... It got better.
As an entree I went all out (as did my billyburg counterparts) and had the orange peel mint infused buttered carp, which as an unexpected surprise, came served at room temperature (purrrfect!) with a heap of steaming hot peanut butter Bolognese!
Jaw. Dropped.--NOMZ--
And so did my standards as the evening went on.
After we finished our meal sent from heaven, the group made their way inside to the downstairs dance floor, because duh, we came for salsa-trivia!
We "danswered" questions, to some of the best d.c. GoGo playlists I've ever heard! though it did strike me as strange that I was the only male in a laser filled, sweat dripping, drum and base orgy of chest thumping bass.
.. Still, too good to be true I thought.
Wrong.
Later in the night I became friends with the dj John, who was also the bartender, bouncer, and certified vibe creator. John, some of his other co workers, I think a local news anchor, and myself were selected (at random) for the evenings capuara (dance fighting) battle.... Could this get any more perfect?!
Yes. .. It could.
After about 4 and a half hours of blazing beats, and brazen dance floor abuse even the bar owner joined in our dance riot!!! this quickly escalated into a full on 4 story conga line. Up and down every elevator, more body shots (thanks Tim) of ghost pepper infused cinnamon brandy, till yes, FINALLY our night came to a sad and screeching halt.
....None of this actually was happening.
I completely forgot that I roofied myself. (Typical)
I didn't know a single soul from fucking Brooklyn.
I did not eat 5 gallons of "pork wings". WTF.
I am polish, and cannot dance.
You couldn't pay me to eat a carp.
The word "infused" was used an insane amount.
So, fuck.
There I sat, drinking a double vodka, eating (in my humble opinion) some of the best perogie and wings, across from some of the most tolerant, efficient, and friendly people I've ever met in my life.
If you took the time to read this your life is a mess, go to Gooskis right this second and thank the fuck Christ it exists.
Also tip, have your money out, and don't make out at the bar. read more