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Blue Ribbon Bar: 1 Star

April 19, 2015

Blue Ribbon Bar: 1 Star

by Christi J.
Greenpoint, Brooklyn

This sort of bar isn’t my usual hang but it was my friend Michelle’s birthday and she’s apparently just in love with this place so I didn’t really have much choice. The décor is that faux-Southern thing that seems to be popular nowadays, ya know; crappy wood wainscoting, drab flaky paint on the wall, and a few old vaguely racist posters. I mean, I’m not against it, but it definitely doesn’t sell a place for me.

All the bar snacks were, of course, deep fried meats and cheeses. I can see the appeal of that to some people but anyone with a discerning palette doesn’t want their charcuterie plate breaded and boiled in peanut oil. They had specialty cocktails but I don’t know why because they were all disgusting. They were either overly sweet or overly bitter with no in between and cost like fifteen bucks each. Just please, if you’re going for the down-home feel don’t try to sell me on your mixology nonsense.

The thing is, I wouldn’t give this place such a bad review if not for the bartender. I’m sure the owners know who I’m talking about, since I figure people must be complaining about her all the time. She looks like the sort of girl who got made fun of in high school and never really got over it. Every time I tried to order a drink she stared back at me, unblinking, with these bulging black eyes.

I think she her name was like, Jennifer?

It was like doing her job was a complete and total hassle for her. Like, come on, you’re the one who chose to be a bartender, it’s not my fault if I can’t remember what the dumb names of your overpriced cocktails are. She was always slow, and treating other customers before me, and I got tired of it. Now, I’ll admit, I had a few of their sugary overly sweet concoctions in me at the time but I definitely don’t think it’s rude to whistle to get someone’s attention.

Well, this girl… this Jennifer or whatever, she, like, tore my head clean off.

Her jaw unhinged and her skin tore apart as chitinous mandibles extended from her throat and ripped clean through my neck, which is so rude I just can’t even. Then she has the gall to start vomiting these undulating egg sacs into my chest cavity before sealing my jagged neck wound up with some foul gunk she spewed from her pulsating thorax.

And all of this was going on in full view of other patrons who I can only imagine were mortified. I mean, does this girl realize how many health codes she probably broke? And right after it, she wiped down the bar with the same rust stained rag she used to clean up spills from the floor.

Worst of all, she didn’t even get me my drink!
I feel bad for my friend Michelle but I just wasn’t going to stay there after that, and there’s no polite way to say this but that b*tch was the reason I left. I was just so embarrassed and upset that I don’t even think I closed out my tab.

Also, I think whatever she did to me made me sick because the next morning I woke up with these glowing blue pustules all over my skin. They kept itching but no matter how much I scratched them it never stopped because the itching is coming from inside of my skin. So, I went to my doctor, Dr. Patel on 9th (who is just wonderful, 5/5 I would totally recommend him if you’re looking for a new GP), and he said something about my blood being green and all of my body chemistry being out of whack. I’m not sure I totally understood him, but he has such a great bedside manner that I knew I was going to be ok even when my blood oozed out of the plastic vial and started burning his hand.

Anyway, it’s been a few days and I normally don’t leave bad reviews but… oh wow, I think one of these hives on my arm is starting to move… I think something’s coming out of it?

The point is, that Blue Ribbon Bar just isn’t worth your time. Everything’s overpriced, the place is terribly dry (like would it kill them to pump up the humidity to make us all feel more comfortable?), and the music is so loud. Like, if they could turn down their bad Southern Jock Rock, I might have been able to hear the incessant clicking of mandibles that sing the song of the Brood Mother!

They should probably ask Jenny for suggestions, she’s such a great bartender and a real sweetheart! I’ll update this review if things change but until then one out five stars for you, Blue Ribbon Bar.

Author’s Note: Normally, I would put this near the top but I like this story enough that I felt like it should speak for itself.  I think it was a little too short and offbeat for most traditional markets but still a lot of fun.  Anyway, the genesis of this story is pretty funny; when a friend of mine got fired from a bar she was working at, the owners cited “disturbing Yelp reviews” as their cause but refused to provide any examples and so this story was the result of me trying to comprehend that phrase.

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