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For 5 years I have been trying to remember the name of a bar we frequented after an evening of Bridge. It probably closed sometime in the 1980's or a little later???
Can anyone help me? The small bar was located on the East Side of Third Avenue a few doors from 19th Street (I believe just SOUTH of 19th.)
It was owned/fronted by an outrageous queen commonly referred to as THE EMERALD QUEEN.
All my bridge buddies are gone into the ether, so nobody to ask.
Also, does anyone remember the weekly free bar publication whose name was just two letters? Basically, all advertising with one short feature and lots of good-looking scantily clad guys.
Something like HQ, GH. HX????
I have been Googling my ass off and find nothing.
TIA, I HOPE!
Last edited by Kefir King; 10-24-2022 at 12:40 PM..
For 5 years I have been trying to remember the name of a bar we frequented after an evening of Bridge. It probably closed sometime in the 1980's or a little later???
Can anyone help me? The small bar was located on the East Side of Third Avenue a few doors from 19th Street (I believe just SOUTH of 19th.)
It was owned/fronted by an outrageous queen commonly referred to as THE EMERALD QUEEN.
All my bridge buddies are gone into the ether, so nobody to ask.
Also, does anyone remember the weekly free bar publication whose name was just two letters? Basically, all advertising with one short feature and lots of good-looking scantily clad guys.
Something like HQ, GH. HX????
I have been Googling my ass off and find nothing.
TIA, I HOPE!
North Dakota ?, South Dakota ? Uncle Charlies South? Barefoot Boy? Beau Geste? Company?
Remembering places along and off of 3rd but the 19th St thing is perplexing me. Don't remember anything South of the 20's. Furthest South place on 3rd I remember was South Dakota...low 20's though. North Dakota was in the 30's.
Maybe send dm to Nightcrawler if he doesn't check in here ?
This little hole in the wall bar was the only East Side bar I frequented, like once a week for a year after bridge nights, other than my very favorite bar in the whole City, Uncle Charlie's East, up in the Seventies or Eighties on Second or Third Ave's. Huge mobbed bar with a weekend line to get in in the early 1970's. Met a six-monther there, my penultimate in 1973 before meeting my one and only and 'till death do us part...which it rudely did.
Funny thing: penultimate lover lived at 93rd and Madison and 37 years later I moved to 93rd St.
This little hole in the wall bar was the only East Side bar I frequented, like once a week for a year after bridge nights, other than my very favorite bar in the whole City, Uncle Charlie's East, up in the Seventies or Eighties on Second or Third Ave's. Huge mobbed bar with a weekend line to get in in the early 1970's. Met a six-monther there, my penultimate in 1973 before meeting my one and only and 'till death do us part...which it rudely did.
Funny thing: penultimate lover lived at 93rd and Madison and 37 years later I moved to 93rd St.
Just curious if you ever made it to the Anvil or Ramrod back in the day?
Just curious if you ever made it to the Anvil or Ramrod back in the day?
They were regular haunts, Sunday afternoon at the Ramrod and Uncle Charlies (on Christopher) with people spilling out onto West Street were always a fun crowd. Anvil sex shows were fun Sundays.
Living in Jersey City, the Westside bars were most convenient.
I'd leave my car in Journal Square and take the PATH in.
In the seventies, I would drive to the East side bars...and actually find STREET PARKING withi a block of my destination.
Better days.
At 4AM this morning, I thought of the name of the magazine that has been eluding me for months: HX
Funny what your brain does at 4 AM.
Last edited by Kefir King; 10-27-2022 at 08:08 AM..
They were regular haunts, Sunday afternoon at the Ramrod and Uncle Charlies (on Christopher) with people spilling out onto West Street were always a fun crowd. Anvil sex shows were fun Sundays.
Living in Jersey City, the Westside bars were most convenient.
I'd leave my car in Journal Square and take the PATH in.
In the seventies, I would drive to the East side bars...and actually find STREET PARKING withi a block of my destination.
Better days.
At 4AM this morning, I thought of the name of the magazine that has been eluding me for months: HX
Funny what your brain does at 4 AM.
Thanks for this. I saw Al Pacino's 'Cruising' a few years ago and it got me fascinated with the world that used to exist off the West Side Highway back in the day. The Eagle (which they recently expanded) is the last surviving remnant of that era that still exists.
MB, the really incredible haunts were THE TRUCKS ...crazy anonymous sex in jam packed tractor trailers parked under the West Side Highway all weekend and THE PIERS, deserted and dilapidated but for the thousands of gay guys that would descend on them every night.
The powers that be couldn't tolerate this kind of behavior, so AIDS had to be invented to put an end to it all. But the Seventies in Manhattan were a time that would make Caligula blush. Everybody was unemployed (Two massive recessions) and the only game in town was SEX.
And the world has never seen ANYTHING like the Mine Shaft. Almost defies description.
It was the time THOSE WERE THE DAYS was really written for.
They were regular haunts, Sunday afternoon at the Ramrod and Uncle Charlies (on Christopher) with people spilling out onto West Street were always a fun crowd. Anvil sex shows were fun Sundays.
Living in Jersey City, the Westside bars were most convenient.
I'd leave my car in Journal Square and take the PATH in.
In the seventies, I would drive to the East side bars...and actually find STREET PARKING withi a block of my destination.
Better days.
At 4AM this morning, I thought of the name of the magazine that has been eluding me for months: HX Funny what your brain does at 4 AM.
Unrelated to your original question but related to what I bolded, it's good to know that happens to other people.
I was at lunch with some former coworkers one day, and someone mentioned another woman we'd worked with. I opened my mouth to ask a question about her, but someone else said something, and in that moment I lost her name. I worked with this woman for years, and she actually reported to me on one project. I could see her face in my mind, but I could not bring up her name.
It bugged me all through our lunch and for the rest of the day and night. I JUST COULD NOT RECALL THE NAME. It was a little scary, actually. Like it was RIGHT THERE but I couldn't call it up.
I fell asleep on my couch that night, and I woke up around 3 a.m., sat up, and said out loud "Isabelle A." It just came out of my mouth, unbidden.
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