Happy hour was rather uneventful last night. We went back to the sangria place in El Barrio. Live music came on. Good music, but so loud I think I now know what a dog feels like when someone blows one of those whistles that no human can hear. Terrible, I say. We had to move onto another bar down the street. After a very inconspicious "walk-by" to make sure we wouldn't totally get our asses kicked if we went in there. The waitress was quite nice and gave us our third round free. (For the record, I didn't have a third round.)
Now, for those of you who know me, I have no problem traveling around the city to meet up. South Williamsburg for Cinco de Mayo? Si. Beer garden in Astoria for Dirty's Thirty? For real. South Bronx for a bbq? Yo. LES for a white russian? Need you ask?
El Barrio for sangria? Hell yeah...Although, actually, perhaps not.
I have developed a beef with East Harlem: for one of the least gentrified 'hoods in Manhattan, why the hell are the drinks so freakin' expensive!? I mean, $8 for a mojito is a lot for E.116th and First Avenue. And there was so much sugar in that baby, I woke up this morning with a stomach ache. Seriously. Am I paying for the street cred or something? Because, quite frankly, I am perfectly happy being a West Side girl who drinks practically free walking distance from home.
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