Did I not send this out on Monday? What day is this… man? Scattered. Like the focus of a Michael Bey joint. But in a good way. The Liquor Board finally got to processing the neighborhood removal of our license. I know that sounds bad, but it’s the same procedure as when we moved to the current spot from what is now the little barber shop across Hoyt. It really should be called neighborhood moval, but the latter’s not really a word. So, it’s like a restaurant makeover show around here, if that restaurant happened to have one of the deepest cellars in Brooklyn, and had to move its contents down the street in summer heat. Just glad to be moving forward, actively problem solving rather than endlessly treading water in quicksand, while pushing a boulder up a hill, both ways in the snow. The waiting is in fact the hardest part. Tom Petty knew.
Now to my previous (new to you) thoughts, already in progress:
Two of the most New York things ever to happen to me involve the Public Theater, one of New York’s greatest institutions. The first begins in a generic classroom setting, in a forgettable (forgotten) downtown building. One my oldest and dearest had signed us up for a real estate class. The instructor was smart enough, but his answers limited by the questions, and we were surrounded by morons. Each tuned in just long enough to ask the sort of question an undergrad might with the goal of being seen asking the question rather than seeking any empirical knowledge on the topic at hand. There’s a break after the morning session and Alex has plans to pick up tickets at the Public Theater to see Jack Goes Boating.
After checking availability at the box office, on the landing out front of the theater at the top of the steps, we ponder returning to the tedium of that seminar’s second session, or catch the matinee that begins in a hour. Just then, Philip Seymour Hoffman shuffles by us- in character- and sheepishly excuses himself by us as he does. We share a beat and a laugh, grab two tickets on the aisle in the last row, and wander off to kill an hour on St. Mark’s. Shortly thereafter, in our seats at the top of the stairs, the lights were dimming as an usher came to the last row to offer a few scattered seats up front to the riffraff, and we ended up fourth row, just off center. A few years later, at a fundraiser for Al Franken’s Senate run, I was able to tell Philip Seymour Hoffman how wonderful that character came across, and how sweet was the innocence with which he played him. At the time, we both wished I hadn’t, but selfishly now, I’m glad it went that way. And it’s a shadow over us all that he’s not around anymore for me to annoy him about how great he was in something (everything) else. Stay tuned to this space for the other most New York thing of all time (involving the Public Theater).
And now, to the sale:
It’s been a while since we’ve done one of our TWO DOLLARS sale(s), so for those of you who are unfamiliar, it began as way to run through a number of SKUs that we purchased mainly to boost our SKU count with the largest distributor of domestic whiskey, keeping us in the running for the rarest of the rare, along with the Total Wines and Astors of the world. Since then we’ve also added items for which we don’t have shelf space, or need to clear out, sometimes to hoard up more ahead of a price increase, but the rules remain the same. Every whiskey on the list is available to you at a mere $2 above our cost, making them the lowest price(s) in town. There is something for everyone in here, unless you don’t like whiskey, in which case what are we talking about. It’s a 20 item whiskey sale, including delicious under $50 bottles for casual use (Breckenridge Bourbon, Hudson 5yr), rare barrel finishes (Heaven’s Door Naranja Cask, Guero Cognac Cask Rye, HighWire Jimmy Red Olosroso Cask), and top shelf rarities (Bardstown Bourbon Collabs, Drumshanbo Irish Whiskey). Click below to see the full list. Happy hunting!
