Ghetto Karaoke
I went from Fly to Nigh in a few days time, from partying with some classy folks at Cielo the other night to crawling through (shielding my face from onlookers), by far, some scanky ass bars in the Bronx this week.
Bar 1: Casbar on Castle Hil avenue.
In search of a good karaoke night (Karaoke Survivor was shut down through a series of unfortunate events) I followed my fellow Karaoke heads to the CasBar. I dressed in a lovely little Mossimo dress and Via Spiga tights, looking oh so fresh, with some lovely black leather slouched ankle boots and found myself neck high in trash. Could it have been the vinyl poster of a beach scene stretched (rather loosly) across the length of the bar, only to be met by a classic Ms PacMan arcade game? Perhaps it was the cluster of bleary eyed, shoulder high men that cast their hungry little eyes upon my friends and me. It might have been the busty bartender with severely malnourished hair fixing the drinks. Or maybe it was just the snarling suspicion that a fight would surely break out between the guys at the pooltable trying desperately to profile their Pool Prowess.
After a few cocktails generously provided to me by my pals who saw the horror scrawled across my face, I loosened up and signed up for a few songs. It was ok, but the vibe was growing more tense and I couldn't have imagined myself in a bar room brawl and tearing my tights or scuffing my boots.
On to Bar Two: Paquita's:
Known for its yummy Pastelillos and cocaine, we headed (my head hanging in shame and my heart heavy from wasting a totally cute outfit) to this place. Let me paint you a picture:
The 'dining area' is painted electric blue. The aroma of yummy fried cholestrol hanging heavy in the air. K-mart posters of 18th century French maidens perched atop swings encased in faux barque guilded frames alongside the remnants of a flung beer bottle. Christmas lights slung on the wall. Matching Candelabra sconces. Cafeteria lighting. Gold glitter smattered across the cieling. Shiffon tassled skirting over bare lightbulbs. Did I mention the raw Spackle? Or the bartender in an Easy Pickins promdress and Flip Flop wedges? All the fixin's of a night in Parkchester.
But the spanish music was pulsing through the horrorshow and through me and I couldn't resist. Another cocktail and I found myself on the makeshift dancefloor, twirling with aplomb. This could have been a most aweful night had it not been for the uplifting spirit of my friends, who laughed at my panic stricken face and plowed me with drink. We laughed as i snagged my dress in my heels while performing a drunken Suzy Q, or when I dropped my enormous hooped earrings in a fantastic spin. We took photographs and laughed til our bellys ached.
There is something so charming about nights like this, to drop your guard for a second, to walk away from the pomp and circumstance of $15 cocktails, coat checks, scanned drivers licenses and aloof bartenders and scank it out with your girls.
I should be scanking it out next weekend too. Maybe even tonight!
Happy New Year Everyone!!!
WEPPPPAAAA!!!!!!!
Bar 1: Casbar on Castle Hil avenue.
In search of a good karaoke night (Karaoke Survivor was shut down through a series of unfortunate events) I followed my fellow Karaoke heads to the CasBar. I dressed in a lovely little Mossimo dress and Via Spiga tights, looking oh so fresh, with some lovely black leather slouched ankle boots and found myself neck high in trash. Could it have been the vinyl poster of a beach scene stretched (rather loosly) across the length of the bar, only to be met by a classic Ms PacMan arcade game? Perhaps it was the cluster of bleary eyed, shoulder high men that cast their hungry little eyes upon my friends and me. It might have been the busty bartender with severely malnourished hair fixing the drinks. Or maybe it was just the snarling suspicion that a fight would surely break out between the guys at the pooltable trying desperately to profile their Pool Prowess.
After a few cocktails generously provided to me by my pals who saw the horror scrawled across my face, I loosened up and signed up for a few songs. It was ok, but the vibe was growing more tense and I couldn't have imagined myself in a bar room brawl and tearing my tights or scuffing my boots.
On to Bar Two: Paquita's:
Known for its yummy Pastelillos and cocaine, we headed (my head hanging in shame and my heart heavy from wasting a totally cute outfit) to this place. Let me paint you a picture:
The 'dining area' is painted electric blue. The aroma of yummy fried cholestrol hanging heavy in the air. K-mart posters of 18th century French maidens perched atop swings encased in faux barque guilded frames alongside the remnants of a flung beer bottle. Christmas lights slung on the wall. Matching Candelabra sconces. Cafeteria lighting. Gold glitter smattered across the cieling. Shiffon tassled skirting over bare lightbulbs. Did I mention the raw Spackle? Or the bartender in an Easy Pickins promdress and Flip Flop wedges? All the fixin's of a night in Parkchester.
But the spanish music was pulsing through the horrorshow and through me and I couldn't resist. Another cocktail and I found myself on the makeshift dancefloor, twirling with aplomb. This could have been a most aweful night had it not been for the uplifting spirit of my friends, who laughed at my panic stricken face and plowed me with drink. We laughed as i snagged my dress in my heels while performing a drunken Suzy Q, or when I dropped my enormous hooped earrings in a fantastic spin. We took photographs and laughed til our bellys ached.
There is something so charming about nights like this, to drop your guard for a second, to walk away from the pomp and circumstance of $15 cocktails, coat checks, scanned drivers licenses and aloof bartenders and scank it out with your girls.
I should be scanking it out next weekend too. Maybe even tonight!
Happy New Year Everyone!!!
WEPPPPAAAA!!!!!!!
posted by WepaWoman at 1:37 PM
2 Comments:
Hi Wepa, in all respects to you, I understand that the Casbar is not to your taste and I understand that it is pretty gloomy but we have had the best times in that place and maybe out of the two years that I have been there it has had two fights and they were men fights but in all we are a family bar and the men are always looking hungry because all us women that come there often are taken by our husband or man... I really go there for my crazy hair girl Jessie aka the bartender, that is a working mother and finishing her Masters so that she can work for children since her child is very sick....most of us are very Educated and just go to have a good time and understand that you would of not been brawling because that is the last thing we do, is fight, we all have children; want to come home to them!!! The Casbar is our getaway, we just want to have fun and fighting is something we avoid even if we have our fake ass faces because we just have to....that is the shame in living in New York period...we do fight off the Karaoke time there because we just want to have fun and dance.....so if you love the Karaoke thing..... Casbar is not for you!!!! and by the way what a great title, Ghetto Karaoke, love it and it is true because again, we do fight off the Karaoke, we cannot stand it but we do like the women that come in there and sing but why they have to pick slow jams, that makes us want to go to sleep or maybe just go home to our men, but the woman sound beautiful!!!! Look me up at BarnesandNobles.com, The Soul of a Woman by Angela Khan.......need tons of support. Peace and Love
dear lovedpoetess,
I am actually really glad that you left this comment. Interestingly enough, I actually had a pretty damned good time at CasBar considering it is pretty darned gloomy, for sure. And I am glad that you decided to express yourself and your affiliation to CasBar. I do hope that you appreciate the dark humor in my writing. My intention is to cast a critical eye on the current scene of things, both in the hood as well as the $15 martini spots that are certainly intending to price out hard working folks that would love a stiff martini, but are hard pressed to spend that kind of money on a drink.
Perhaps the night that I went was particularly seedy, folks certainly did seem edgy. i was not the only one that felt the heat from the crowd. Something was definitely brewing in the air that night. I do hope that at your next visit to CasBar you enjoy a cool drink in my name, and, perhaps, in time, i can return and toast you in person. Cheers!
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