I've always hated Prime Time Pub, but the manager lady and the KJ are nice and I have warm feelings for them, so I chose not to write a bad review. But, after the way I was treated on New Year's Eve, I am DONE. Fasten your seat belts. It's going to be a bumpy review.
Let's get the basics out of the way first:
1) It's a dump.
2) It's in a sketchy neighborhood.
3) The sound system sucks.
4) It's cash only.
5) The drinks are WEAK A.F. and not that cheap.
#5 is unacceptable for a dive bar. You have ONE JOB, and that's to pour a stiff drink and not charge a lot. Frankly, I just want the requisite 2 oz, and they don't even do that. I try to get my drinks from the manager because she actually puts vodka in them.
I would never have returned to Prime Time Pub after my first visit, but my friends like going there because we get to sing a lot, and I like singing with them, so I go. From the start of our visits to Prime Time, there was a woman who was always talking to everyone, offering to get drinks for them even though the bar is just a few steps away from the tables. I asked her if she worked there and, as I recall, she said no, which made no sense. If you took her up on her offer, she would overcharge you for the drink and pocket the difference (or maybe pocket the whole thing - who knows?).
One night, I was on stage, singing a sad song, and she got up on stage with me and straddled my leg and started undulating around and humping my leg. Not OK.
She drove us all crazy, but one day, my friend told me that she wasn't there anymore. Someone at Prime Time told him they'd gotten a lot of complaints about her and that's why she was no longer there. There was much rejoicing. However, she's back. We avoid her as much as possible, while being civil, and we don't get drinks from her.
On NYE, the manager was being a great hostess, circulating and making sure everyone felt welcome, so she was sadly not pouring drinks. I got drinks from 3 different bartenders that night. NO VODKA in them. That's right, NONE. Friend: "I don't taste any vodka." Me: "Because there IS none!" I didn't complain to the bartenders the first 2 times, but by the 3rd, I was really pissed. I'm a good tipper, so it's even more insulting, and I can go to Ralph's and buy 3 bottles of cranberry juice for the price of 1 "vodka" and cranberry at Prime Time.
I went back to bartender #3 and told him there was no vodka in my drink, and he actually said, "Oh, sorry, people complain that we pour the drinks too strong." lt took everything I had not to laugh in his face. My dude. GTFO. NOBODY is complaining about a dive bar pouring too strong a drink. NOBODY. I said, "Yah, but this is my THIRD drink with no vodka." He said, "Oh," and poured more (or, you know, ANY) vodka in my drink. Fine. Thanks. The next drink I got, SAME ISSUE, straight up cranberry juice. My friend went to the bar and got them to actually put some vodka in it.
Midnight rolled around with no countdown. They passed out Martinelli's sparkling cider for the toast. The manager walked around with a box of mini bottles of booze and let everyone take one. Cool.
My friends had left, so I sat at my table and took some selfies and looked at Facebook while awaiting my next karaoke song. At 1am, the leg-humper came up to me with the security guard, who told me I had to leave. I said, "What?" He said, "She wants you to go." She looked SUPER pissed and kept gesturing at a mini bottle of booze that was across from me on my table. I said, "Uh, that's not mine." because it wasn't. Mine was in my pocket and destined for regifting.
Unspoken thoughts:
1. The manager gave them out, why is this an issue?
2. Were I to smuggle in booze (which I have never done, but obviously should have), I wouldn't be dumb enough to leave it in plain sight.
3. The bottle of booze was unopened and I was clearly not drinking it.
Leg-humper's angry gesturing continued, and I looked at the security guard and I said, "So, I'm being kicked out?" and he said, "Yes." I laughed in disbelief and said, "OK, I'm not here to make your job any harder than it is," and I gathered my purse and coat and left. Security guy was just doing what he was told. He's fine. So, yah, the stank-breath, handsy, creepy, incoherent weirdo guy who bothered EVERYONE that night (Friend: "I'm going to put in a song. The stage is apparently the only place safe from him") got to stay, and I got thrown out. Alrighty then.
Boyfriend of the leg-humper was outside and he asked what was happening and I said, "Your girlfriend just had me thrown out." He said, "What? What happened?" I said, "I HAVE NO IDEA! I was just awaiting my next song, looking at Facebook, minding my own business!" He kindly offered to get me back in, but I declined, because F THAT. I do not want to go back. Ever.
Thanks for ruining my New Year's Eve, Prime Time Pub! read more