Lucky 13 Saloon - NYC (Part 2)

Somehow, we awoke feeling reasonably decent and not as second hand as I imagined we would have, but my standard routine of a hot shower, a couple Advil's and the obligatory "what the fuck am I doing with my life?" comment resounded against the bathroom mirror as I put my face on and waited for my mate to do the same. It was again, painfully cold outside, who woulda guessed that? New York in December and it's cold? Coulda fooled me. Since it was so damn frigid out, we decided that we should take part in more "indoor activities" for the day, Steveo was keen to hit up a Christmas craft market at Bryant Park, which was cool as, then we found our way to Friedman's on 31st & 7th Ave. for a breaky, randomly we sneaked into to some Thai place for a massage, and then somewhere along the line we stumbled upon Rudy's. 

The foot massage was pure nirvana and something I think I need to continue in my life, I guess over a decade of wearing work boots and never going for a massage is enough to ruin anyones soles. We rolled into Rudy's not only to escape the cold, but because we'd heard that for a mere four United States dollar bills you can get a house pint and a Glizzy. A Glizzy for my Europe mates is a greasy dooger, aka, a hotdog. How can one resist a special like that? $4 seemed too good to be true, but I can now die confirming this combo doesn't just exist, but is the stuff of legends. "Do you want Mustard?" Rudy asked from the other side of the bar. "Always lady, always". Reminded me of how epic Frankie's used to be with their $1 slices before 8pm, just the stuff of pickled dreams. We graced Rudy's with our presence for a couple rounds and after we smashed a Glizzy or two we made our plans to meet up with a mate of his back in Brooklyn at Lucky 13 Saloon but not before heading to a jazz Christmas show. I've never been a lover of jazz and in recent years Christmas either, but this was the perfect hybrid of jazz and Christmas rolled together, no stupid 11/16 time signatures insight, just some truly excellent muso's playing some tried and true classics with a sprinkling of polyrhythms and occasional skip of the 4. Pure enjoyment.

After getting lost on the underground for a quick second, we made our way to Lucky 13 Saloon which is tucked away somewhere in Brooklyn but conveniently a 30 second walk from the hotel, and I tell ya, it was the perfect ending to our quick rip in NYC. Turns out Steveo's mate who we were meeting up with, is the "King of the No Ring" championship wrestler, which honestly, I could have guessed by the sheer stature of the bloke as he walked in! People have a lot to say about how wrestlings "fake" and whatnot, but I promise you, fake or not fucking fake, I don't not want this bloke giving me a Full Nelson or a Hogan Leg Drop anytime soon. We skulled beers, talked bollocks and turns out he's is also an honorary member in Cancer Christ. For those shall we say, unfamiliar with Cancer Christ, they're a band, and a bloody wild one at that. Usually their shows consist of flame throwers, tearing up bibles, throwing blood and "snake piss" on the crowd, and "baptizing" people, it's a sight to be seen. If I remember correctly St. Anthony is currently in jail, so I'm hoping they do something again soon because that was without questions the wildest band I've ever seen live. 

As I was saying though, Lucky 13 Saloon provided the perfect back drop for our final night in the Big Apple, no $4 hot dog specials to report on, just a bar littered with the perfect decor, loud tunes, a go-go dancer doing her rounds, and an array of Brooklyn finest and coldest pints. In a world filled with truly horrible music such as Lawrence and Drake, we need more places like Lucky 13 to turn down the suck, and turn up the Slayer. Honestly, what more do you bloody want?! 

6/6.