Photo: Ben Rosenzweig
Three years of my life... four? The better part of my PM existence between '80 and '82... If you ever saw one of the more infamous scenes from M, it pretty much gives you an idea of what the atmosphere was like there, and by atmosphere- I mean... atmosphere. You would literally walk into a visible cloud chamber of nicotine and automatically give up any and all rights to the future of having lungs as soon as you ambled on inside. Shit ass Bud bottles were... $1.00!!! Someone just wrote to remind me that drinks were... $1.25.
It was THE neighborhood bar of neighborhood bars, long before Brooklyn was repatriated by like numbers of wannabe artists, musicians and poseurs of every imaginable shape and calibration. More importantly, it was one glorious shithole of dreams personified for those of us living in the big city of Talking Heads, Ramones, and Bush Tetras... and surviving on a steady diet of pizza, beer, and those aforementioned, bigger than life, New York City dreams!