Feeling Something Like Home

It's no little secret that I have been down and out since relocating to New York City. I've got a good job and a great family, but I haven't been able to fill the void that was left by all of my amazing friends in Salt Lake City. I've gone out, and met a few people here and there. But nowhere I have been nor no one that I've met has felt like 'home'.

Until last night.

Last night my friend Katie and I decided to go out, which is strange for me because I haven't been out on a "school night" since leaving Utah. We started at some random sports bar. The drinks were good, but I paid seven bucks for a vodka and tonic. No Bueno. It's one thing to pay $10 for a froofey drink (which I did for the second round, and now I know that I don't love Rum Runners...) but for a well drink? That's a little ridiculous, even for New York.

After the second round of disappointing and over-priced cocktails, and getting frustrated by not understanding a damned word coming out of the Irish bartenders mouth, we decided to move on. Katie suggested that we go to Rudy's (see pic above) She described it as kind of dark, gritty, and divey.

So I need to thank my best friend, Marci, for teaching me to appropriately appreciate the wonder that is the American Dive Bar.

You're greeted at the door by the cutest pig (not the one on the cell phone...). I can't even begin to tell you how odd that porker seems standing on Ninth Avenue in the heart of a very trendy Hell's Kitchen. We made our way into the bar, which wasn't well lit. The floor was grimey, the booths had tape on them, and there were drunks dancing in the middle of the floor.

Ah, it felt like home! For my Utah friends: Imagine Todd's before it changed management.

It's the kind of place where people come to hang out. Not to be "seen", not to get crazy. Just a place to let your hair down, laugh as loud as you want, and maybe join the bar in a chorus of "Margaritaville" after throwing a few back.

We saddled up to the bar, where I introduced Katie to Pabst. I was a little amazed that she had never had it. Albeit she's not really a beer drinker... but still! And in a city where I have seen bottles of Bud Light sell for $6, the $2.50 price tag on their draft was much appreciated! As we were settling, I got the best surprise of the night... COUNTRY MUSIC!

Rudy's doesn't host a DJ. It's just not that kind of bar. Instead they have a digital juke box and the crowd pics the music. And someone in the crowd had picked "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy" by Kenny Chesney. Who I'm really not a huge fan of, but just the fact that Country had been turned on made me feel not so lost in this big ole city.

I wish Rudy's was closer to home. I would have no problem going to that place a few times per week.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not ready to settle in there. There are still far too many places to go and check out. But finding a place like that gives me hope that there's room for this little closet cowboy. And everything is just less scary...