The jukebox plays Prince.
A lot of Prince. And all his proteges. All on it's own. HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE THIS PLACE??
OK, my personal obsession aside, let's answer the real question.
What in the hell was I doing in Astoria Queens.
Well, you can thank Esso for that one, understanding that for the both of us stepping foot in QUEENS, means that there might be some hope for the future of Borough-wide peace.
(NO, we still haven't gotten over that "Queens created hip-hop" shit Marley Marl.
We STILL sing "The Bridge Is Over" to the top of our lungs like the fight is still fresh.)
Anyway, long story short, she tricked me into going. Throwing out the name, "Beer Garden", knowing damn well I'd bite. And bite I did. Hard.
The Ride:
I have to admit, I just followed everyone else. Everyone said get on the "N" train...I got on the "N" train. Everyone said "get off here", I got off there.
No. I paid noneya to the station stop. I was still in a state of "Oh My God, I'm In Queens" traumatic shock. However, I can tell you that from the Union Square station in Manhattan, we were there in less than fifteen minutes. And that spells good time.
Nothing like a long ass trip to another borough (that didn't create hip-hop) to put a smudge on your fresh Adidas. (Run-DMC made em famous, but we were rocking them in the Boogie way before. WAY before. Ahem.)
We get off the train, and after having a kick-ass Sci-Fi Network conversation with my new BFF Peter, we get there. And it's...not impressive.
First off...it's just a bar. And second off, I'm wondering why in the hell did we travel all the way to West Bubblefuck for a pitcher of beer...and are having trouble at the door.
The security guard at the door is checking bags like it's a fucking Jay-Z/R. Kelly tour. Now, gotta say. I'm used to having my bag searched, so at this point, I just kinda...don't ever close it. However, it never ceases to amaze me when I witness people who aren't used to being searched....getting searched. The shit is pure comedy.
"What? Is he checking...INSIDE bags?"
"I guess he's checking for alcohol..."
(I'm thinking weapons...but hey.)
"This is ridiculous...why did they stop Katie?"
"Oh she's got a bottle of wine for her birthday..."
"We're never getting in..."
...COMEDY.
So eventually, we get in and let's face it. A place that's blasting "A Love Bizarre" as soon as you walk in, has GOT to be a good time. Am I right, or am I right?
We squeeze past the bar area, and I'm thinking...this is gonna suck. Hard. Homeless ass. The place is small, smells like stale beer and old church and has no ventilation. One beer, and I'm out.
Then, we head to the outdoor section.
Oh. My. God.
Rows and rows of big ass picnic tables....people on line at the outdoor grill which is flipping hamburgers and franks...a sassy Czech waitress who pretty much made me understand that everything there is "schnitzel". OK...let me explain. This place used to be a Czech and Slovak social club (and still is the central gathering spot for Astoria's Czech and Slovak community).
Now when ever would you just go hang out with the Czech community? Probably um...never, right? Well you should. They're cool as shit. And beer is universal baby.
The beer...fantastic. Cold, frothy, variety...
The food...ditto. You can get your ass up and order from the grill, or you can order from the restaurant inside for a better selection of ...uh...schnitzel. But no matter what you order...it's pretty damn great beer food. And yes, they serve hard liquor too but why would you do that when you're in a BEER GARDEN? (...silly.)
Prices:
Now, this place does not accept credit cards. Cash only. (Damn right.) However, not to worry...there's an ATM on the premises.
A pitcher of beer...about $12, depending on what kind you get. Sorry, can't tell you the mixed drink prices. I CAN tell you, however, that with some chicken schnitzel, your girl can go through some beer. Believe it.
One complaint. No outdoor music.
I mean yeah, Prince was going on the inside...but on outside...nothing. Just great convo and connecting. (Come to think of it...the "no music outdoors" thing is probably a great idea. In a place like that...things could get ugly.)
Black Factor: It's Bohemia for real. Every race, color, and creed sharing picnic tables, drinking beer and laughing. Dr. King would smile.
Go Back: Only in the summer. Not troopin to the this spot in the winter. That's real. OH..and the M60 bus gets you from Astoria to Harlem like (finger snap)!
So all you Harlem-ites...no excuse. Do the damn thing.
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