Let me start by saying that the drunk train as immortalized by How I Met Your Mother’s episode “The Drunk Train” is completely a thing.
I try not to go into the city on the weekends. Let’s face it: at a certain point, even going into Manhattan from Brooklyn became a chore. But a couple times recently, I had the occasion to take the drunk train.
The most recent time was this past weekend. Rachel and I decided to be young and give in to excitedly jump on our friend Rae’s invitation to go dancing.
Oh and since the LIRR is awesome, when we got to Huntington Station, we found out there were no trains from Huntington and had to take a shuttle to Hicksville. We rolled with it but the old man on the bus with us was pissed.
Usually I’d go for beer but, this time, my trank (train-drank) was 5 Hour Energy, which just barely lasted until we got home about 5 hours and 15 minutes later. I blame my work/commuting schedule for conditioning me to get tired early, therefore making me drink harmful caffeinated beverages when I should be drinking alcohol.
We met Rae at Culture Club. This is where I crossed the line into Bridge & Tunnel.
For those of you that aren’t from here, Bridge & Tunnel (B&T) is a term we snobby New Yorkers use to refer to those overdressed drunks who are bussed (train’d) in on the weekends from such God forsaken places as New Jersey or (heaven forbid!) Long Island. B&T bars are the last place you want to be seen. And I’m pretty sure Culture Club is B&T Mecca.
So, why did I go?
Was it the $25 cover? (No, I’m not joking.)
Was it the $13 drinks? (Includes a plastic souvenir cup.)
Was it the crowd? (A unique mix of bachelorette parties, middle-aged women, and a few creepy guys trying their odds with either of the above.)
The truth is: I secretly think Culture Club is fun. Bombshell.
1- The 80s room is akin to singing into your hairbrush with your girlfriends at a sleepover.
2- The 90s-00s room lets me relive my high school and college dance party days.
3- Plus, thanks to the high female-male ratio, I can mostly avoid the creeps. Except for those that came with my friends (*ahem* Rae).
That said, it bears repeating… $25 cover. Therefore, never again. Never. Um, maybe just except for a bachelorette party or something but that’s it, I swear.