Sunday, August 13

yet another era comes to an end...

I took this photo a few weeks ago. This is what remains of my favorite dive, The International Bar. I spent many a night there, drunk, high or typically a combination of both. The drinks were cheap and the jukebox was right on. A small blackboard in the corner perpetually proclaimed "Happy New Year." I hadn't been there in a while, and I'm not sure what happened, but a quick google search led me to a few bar reviews stating that The International was now closed.

This was where I chose to go on my 21st birthday and demanded to be carded, even though I'd been drinking for years already. This was where I proudly brought out of town guests, where I went after readings, where I fought with my significant other du jour. This was where I was most comfortable drinking alone. This was where I went to hide out. This was where I tried to write by candlelight. This was where I stared so many times, out of my tree, at my all-time favorite line of graffiti - "can I tell you that I love you?" while I peed in the teeniest bar bathroom. This was where I drank before I got on the L train and went back to Williamsburg to drink even more at Rosemary's Greenpoint Tavern (my second favorite dive bar).

RIP old friend.

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