adouglas
Well-known member
So last week I took our hopefully-not-quite-so-doomed greyhound Jak (who has a bone tumor in his skull) up to Tufts U in Massachusetts for a bone scan. On the way back I happened to be passing close to our next gig venue, so I decided to drop in. It's called Papa's Pub, and it's in New Britain, CT.
Now, the last place we played, in White Plains NY, was a very, very nice spot. A classy joint, as they say. Lots of fabulous young people drinking martinis and such. Very expensive decor. Not the kind of place that puts neon beer signs up in the window.
Papa's Pub ain't no pub. It's not only the kind of place that puts neon beer signs in the window, there's an eight-foot illuminated Bud Light sign over the stage. There are three pool tables. It's cavernous. I couldn't swear to it, but it sure does look like the bar top is made of plywood. The bartender is named Ed, and he looks like Dave Atell.
It is, in a word, a dive. The men's room showed the telltale signs... stall doors that had obviously been kicked in at some point, etc.
But it didn't actually smell bad or anything, and it's plenty spacious.
So I walked in at about 5 pm or so in the middle of the week. There were two old locals jawing with the bartender about nothing in particular and the smallest hispanic guy I've ever seen drinking a beer all by himself. I introduced myself to Ed and mentioned that I'm in the band that's going to be playing there this coming Friday.
He said, "Oh, Friday is hip-hop night!"
I blanched and stammered out something about how we're not exactly what you'd call a hip-hop band. We play OLD SCHOOL R&B, soul, funk and Motown.
This is going to be one very interesting gig.
Now, the last place we played, in White Plains NY, was a very, very nice spot. A classy joint, as they say. Lots of fabulous young people drinking martinis and such. Very expensive decor. Not the kind of place that puts neon beer signs up in the window.
Papa's Pub ain't no pub. It's not only the kind of place that puts neon beer signs in the window, there's an eight-foot illuminated Bud Light sign over the stage. There are three pool tables. It's cavernous. I couldn't swear to it, but it sure does look like the bar top is made of plywood. The bartender is named Ed, and he looks like Dave Atell.
It is, in a word, a dive. The men's room showed the telltale signs... stall doors that had obviously been kicked in at some point, etc.
But it didn't actually smell bad or anything, and it's plenty spacious.
So I walked in at about 5 pm or so in the middle of the week. There were two old locals jawing with the bartender about nothing in particular and the smallest hispanic guy I've ever seen drinking a beer all by himself. I introduced myself to Ed and mentioned that I'm in the band that's going to be playing there this coming Friday.
He said, "Oh, Friday is hip-hop night!"
I blanched and stammered out something about how we're not exactly what you'd call a hip-hop band. We play OLD SCHOOL R&B, soul, funk and Motown.
This is going to be one very interesting gig.
