Continental

Everyone's seen it. Sandwiched in between a McDonald's and a falafel place (formerly Chickpea, now Tahini), Continental's banner proudly proclaims:


5 SHOTS OF ANYTHING $10
ALL DAY / ALL NIGHT (yes, we're serious)

Back in high school, when I still had enough dignity left to enable me to have a fully-intact sense of irony, I told myself (and anyone who would listen) that I couldn't wait to be 21 and just, like, go in there at like, 8 A.M., and like slam $20 on the table and get 10 shots and just like, shoot them and leave. Ha! Ha! Ha! Who would do that! Ha! Ha! Ha! How ridiculous!

Cut to the present:

When Joe and I were brainstorming places to check out this week, I said, "...You know that place on Astor Place? Where you can get, like, twenty shots for like, five dollars?"

(I've always had an overactive imagination.)

"Um, I think so," Joe said, carefully (as he says most things). "I've seen this place on Astor Place where you can get five shots for ten dollars. Are we thinking of the same place?"

"Probably not," I insisted. "I don't think so."

"Like, it's really sketchy-looking?" Joe pressed on. "Really, really sketchy-looking?"

"It's like, next to a pizza place?" I said. "Or it is a pizza place? Or it's next to like some sort of fast food? Dark exterior? Huge banner?"

"I think we're thinking of the same place," said Joe.

We were.



Continental's website gives you the "Top 10 Reasons to Drink at Continental," of which my three favorite are: What happens at Continental - stays at Continental, Nothing rhymes with Continental, and Iggy Pop drank here. "Do you think," I asked Joe, as we walked up from a Chinatown dinner toward Astor Place, "that we might be the first people ever to go there on purpose?"

"Ha. You mean, like, instead of stumbling into it?" Joe said. After a few moments of reflection, he said, "Yeah -- we could actually be the first people to make plans and like, go out of our way to go there."

We were silent.

"It's for our quest, though," he said.

I nodded, resolutely. Every one of our friends whom we had told of our intentions had shrieked with stunned laughter upon realizing just which place we were talking about. "The one on Astor Place?" they'd said. "The really sketchy one? Have fun!"

We were to meet our valiant friend M.B. there at 9:30, and so we killed some time in the St. Marks Bookshop, and then got some $4 beer at the bar across St. Marks from Continental ("$4 is cheap," said Joe, "but definitely not cheap enough.") Finally, when the time came, we walked over.

There was, of all things, a bouncer at the door. We presented our I.D.s and entered the bar, which was very, very dark. Very dark. The only light came from a jukebox on one side of the room, in front of which there seemed to be a perpetual small crowd. No matter who it was, they were always having fun. We grabbed a table (it was a very wobbly table), sat down, and waited for our waitress.

"Hi, what can I get you guys?" she asked.

"Uh, outside it says '$10 for 5 shots of anything'?" Joe ventured. When she nodded, he said, "Is that just like, any kind of liquor?" She nodded again, and he said, "I'd like five shots of rum, please."

"Whiskey," I said.

"Vodka," said M.B.

To me, she said, "Is Jack Daniels okay?"

Having expected a much, much worse brand of whiskey, it took me a few moments before I stammered, "Uh -- uh, yes, yeah!"

"Bacardi?" she said to Joe. He nodded. "Absolut?" she said to M.B.

"Yes, please," he said.

She left. I said, "Those are much better choices than I was expecting."

The shots came. They looked like this:

We drank all of our shots. We ordered another five, which we split three ways (Joe and M.B. had two each; I had one). We talked earnestly and passionately about healthcare and teachers' salaries. Next to us, jukebox-users came and went, always singing loudly. At one point, I excused myself to use the bathroom, only to find that I couldn't figure out how the sink worked! I stared in the mirror, my hands full of soap. I examined the faucet, searching for a button. I waved my hands everywhere in the sinkbowl, hoping to activate some motion sensor. Nothing!

Maybe the sink was broken! I stumbled out of the women's bathroom, and pushed my way into the men's. No water, there, either! I would have to have soapy hands. I would have to have soapy hands forever! I contemplated my fate, sighed, left the men's bathroom, and then decided to give the women's bathroom one last shot -- and, somehow, it worked! I put my hands into the sink, and water poured out! Hands cleansed and lightly-perfumed, I cheerfully headed back upstairs.

We left drunk and happy (the Pixies were playing), and went to go get some food: DIY froyo (bad idea: mine was very, very lopsided, and my toppings were completely arbitrary) and fancy fries. I would highly recommend Continental: this place will get you drunk so cheaply, and off of decent liquor! I suppose the ambiance is terrible, which sort of begs the question, Why wouldn't you just sit at home and drink your own Jack?, but if you're with a group of people, and need to quickly and cheaply get drunk, Continental is perfect.