The Memphis dive bar scene is legendary, but not many people know that. We went out every night, and something zany or insane happened every night.
Posts Tagged ‘drinking’
The night was far younger than we realized. Someone invited us to have a drink at Wild Bill’s, which a local would later call “the last real place in Memphis.”
The Ribs. Succulent, platonically moist, fall-aparty, infused with Memphis-style charcoal smoke, served with a dusting of finishing-spice and a side of sweet house sauce. In other words, perfection.
Maybe it was the way she said patty, but the patty melt won. We asked if she could cut ours into thirds. She smiled. I wondered how long she’d worked there and been forced to listen to stupid shit like this.
We really wanted to work the river into our weeklong stay, but that would prove more difficult than we imagined. As usual, day drinking solved the problem.
Memphis just wants to be happy doing what Memphis does. Memphis feels a little sorry for you if you see it any other way.
"At the heart of the matter is what it means to be from Queens, a 2.3-million-person slice of New York City that no one beyond its borders knows anything about." --Invitation to the first College Point Class Conflict Pub Crawl, October 20, 2006