About 2 years ago, I was producing a three play Off Broadway rep season in Hell's Kitchen. I was in way over my head, overworked, understaffed, and under-financed. So I needed a refuge from my plight, and a steady flow of booze to keep me from strangling someone. Luckily, one day before a show, Hubris (who was my right hand man through this whole debacle) and I discovered this little gem of a bar. We sat in the back of the bar, and ate dinner on what might be the most comfortable couch ever produced. That couch, along with a combination of chicken fingers and Harps, might have saved my life during that professional crisis.
Since then, we have spent many days and nights at the Rogue, slamming beers and woofing down their pretty decent food. The great thing about the Rogue is that they have stood by us despite us doing just about everything we can think of to get banned. We have had fistfights, burnt jackets, nearly knocked over tables, crashed private parties, abused chemicals in the restroom, and passed out by the john after praying to the porcelin god. The Rogue has never turned their back on us, only asking us once to leave (the passed out in the bathroom evening). Hell, we even rented their top lounge twice for theater parties. Any bar that would ignore our idiocy and keep serving us is a bar to note.
Trying to think of one event that represents the Irish Rogue is tricky, as we have pulled many a crazy night there. The best defining moment was probably a lunch. Bourbon, Hubris, Teach, and myself were running an arts in education program at Midtown West school, around the corner from the Rogue. We had just wrapped our final performance at the school on a Tuesday morning, which was the final act of a 5 month work bananza including the off Broadway season. We decided to celebrate with a liquid lunch at the Rogue. After some food and a couple of pints, we got a brilliantly stupid idea, A Beer Bone.
Now A beer bone is a 76 ounce plastic tube, ending in a spigot. The bar fills this tube with St. Pauli Girl beer, We empty said tube. The Rogue was at first hesitant to give us a beer bone at 1 in the afternoon, but we talked them into it. This leads us to being plastered before 4, with Hubris having to sleep in the park in order to sober up before work. A great work lunch. (For a even crazier story about beer bones, check out this story http://ivorynotes.blogspot.com/2007_04_01_archive.html)
So thus is the Irish Rogue. The consistently solid bar that forgives our madness, and offers a haven in the Times Square/Hells Kitchen area.
I am heading into winter holiday break, so no real crazy until 08, but I will try to throw in some posts about more top notch bar, or finally tell the tale of the Opening of this season's Premier League. Happy Holidays!
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1 comment:
Have I been to the Rogue yet?
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