Why You Should Go to Johnny’s Bar, West Village

Why you should go to Johnny’s:

(1) When you ask a rasta dude for help with the ATM – that charges 2$ per transaction – he tries to put your card into the juxebox.

(2) There’s a yellow post-it on the window that reads: “no passing drinks through the window.”

(3) When you put on “I Want To Be Sedated”, a guy claps you on the back, rocking: “yeahh!!”

(4) A blonde Dutch girl is outside in a gaggle of guys, raving, not making sense. It’s hit that time of the morning when every one has stopped making sense, and groups are bleeding together.

(5) Your friend smells a girl’s brown leather jacket. She bought it in Barcelona five years ago. It’s a good conversation starter. She smells yours. “Yours is made of plastic.”

(6) The rasta says: “when I want a break from this bar, I have to leave the country.”

(7) You introduce yourself to the bar man. “I’m Zach,” he says in brusque friendship, and pours two 128-proof shots.

(8) A guy tells us what he wants to do to us with Crisco, and other forms of lard.

(9) You fall asleep on the subway, and end up at Coney Island with some warm sleep-drool. The young man from the all-night vege shop, from Uzbekistan, here two months amongst persimmons, smiles as you pass at 6 a.m., still in your day clothes, still with your dweeb-squad school bag: “hello, you are coming home from work now?” You met your friends for a drink 13 hours ago.

(10) Hello weekend.