18 responses to “turbans at the annex: serious business”

  1. threepunchstuff

    You still cannot wear your Ushanka hat to the Pancakes R Us across the street.

  2. seriesfinale

    I’ve been to a lot of bars all over the country and the next time I see a sikh wearing a turban in one will be the first.

    I also don’t think black guys wear any more hats than white guys, at least not wherever I’ve lived/where I’ve gone.

    That said, and all racial issues aside, I tend to frequent places that should have more of dress code if anything!

  3. nosrialleon

    c.f. DNA’s pukey asian nights…

    I was watching an AC/DC concert on VHI, circa 77/78 at a college in England, and the guy having the best time in the crowd was a Sikh, which earned a double take, followed by a WTF?, follwed by THAT’S AWESOME.

  4. comandanteagi

    Pierce Street is not a meat market, it’s a slaughterhouse.

  5. mcpino

    Sikhs drink?

    1. dr_strych9

      Yeah, that was my reaction too.

  6. handstil

    Pierce Street. Oh dear.

    People who frequent that place scare me, a lot. I think I told you about how they kept planting new saplings on Karen’s street because the people from that bar would show up drunk at 2 am and break them in half. Like, for fun.

    Also, parking on other people’s lawns is not ok. Not even when you need a drink real bad.

  7. chthonicsiren

    Interesting take.

    Yeah, that’s the best part of going out here in NYC… drunk subway rides home. Er, not the rides, but the fact that one can get home wasted.

  8. perich

    the management reserves the right to refuse service

    NO HATS
    NO BAGGY PANTS
    NO BOOTS
    NO REALLY BIG GOLD CHAINS
    NO T-SHIRTS WITH A CHILD’S PICTURE ON THEM AND TWO DATES, NO MORE THAN TWENTY YEARS APART, SEPARATED BY A HYPHEN

  9. halfjack

    Wow, alien landscape. I have a dozen great pubs in walking distance and half of those are in staggering distance. I don’t know of any rules in any of them about what you can or can’t wear. But on the other hand there are no true “bars” here at all — the skinny rooms with a bar down one wall and a row of two-seat tables down the other — just pubs — big rooms with a bar and a kitchen.

  10. eyeteeth

    Come to New York and let’s get wasted!!!

    1. frobisher

      Seconded.

  11. kasheri

    I find Orange County bars to be universally depressing. It has always mystified me that people like to frequent bars, but over time I’ve come to realize that this is because they are very different in different parts of the world. But here in the OC? They just always seem like the morgue’s waiting room.

  12. mizducky

    I have a friend who perpetually wears a bandana headband, who ran smack dab into a prohibition against such headgear in some bar in the El Centro area. Supposedly the ban was designed to profile Chicano gangsta-looking types. My friend couldn’t be mistaken for a Chicano gangsta in a bazillion years (Caucasian skin with a serious case of studio tan, tie-dye-heavy wardrobe, nearly waist-length red hair–the headband is part of his whole leftover-hippy classic-rock musician persona). But they would not let him into this rinky-dink bar with the headband on. Stupid discriminatory rule, but at least they were applying the stupidity in a (stupidly) equal-opportunity manner? More likely that, in the management’s bigoted worldview, it never occurred to them that anyone other than their stereotype of Chicano ganstas wear those headbands–let alone that, like, discrimination sucks, y’know?

    (What the hell was my friend doing in El Centro in the first place? Playing a gig with his band. Not in the bar that barred his entry, though–too bad, because that would have been a really fun twist to the tale.)

  13. torgo_x

    Zhigaag

    I liked the bars in SF and NY, where you could walk home if you wanted. I bet they have similar issues with the “mix of the crowd” though.

    In Chicago: get a bit buzzed, or actually pretty buzzed; go to the El platform
    and sober up a bit from the cold as you’re waiting; and then
    hop on the next El home.  Just try not to nod off (the train rocks you soothingly) and end up missing your stop and/or transfer point.

    Oddly: I never saw anyone, no matter how drunk, puzzling over which El route to take home. 
    Everyone that I saw could navigate the system practically by muscle memory.

    * * *

    However, out in the El-less suburbs, where the street grid is practically tiled with “sports bars”, look out.  They call it “Chicagoland”, but I’d bet that it’s more like a DUI Alphaville.

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