Review: Rudy's Bar - Quit hoggin the hot dogs, you giant fake pig!

There are many good uses for duct tape these days: surviving the latest monkey-pox gas attack, ensuring that pretty blond doesn’t get too “feisty” (i.e. climb out of her pit), the subtle art of ducting. Barfly is happy to report that a classic New York drinking establishment has found a new use for our favorite tape variety. Midtown bar Rudy’s has decided that, instead of buying new stools, they would just fashion some with a hearty mix of duct tape, metal shards, and good old fashioned 42nd Street grit (now under trademark by Disney).

Luckily, you won’t feel pesky shards digging into your bottom for long –the bountiful $9 pitchers are good for dulling that kind of thing, not to mention those annoying voices that just won’t ever, ever stop talking (no, we told you honey, we can’t hear them). The crowd at Rudy’s is diverse in many aspects. Hipsters sit across from grizzled longshoreman. Entry-level corporate designers and pint gumming old-timers are brought together by one thing: abject poverty, white style. Having to spend 104.4% (NYC median) of your income on rent and alcohol sure is hard.

On a recent visit we were smitten with the outdoor patio. Smokers huddled around pitchers. A din of conversation hung in the musty air. We stretched our last $20 out for hours (albeit we did pour some of our neighbor’s pitcher when they were in the bathroom busily taking the morning-after-pill). The one downside: our stomach was rumbling but our pockets were empty. It would be a sorry stroll back to the Drunktown poorhouse this evening. None of the glorious dishes afforded to bottle service New Yorkers, like drunk pizza.

But wait, as we walked through the door, our hobo pouch cinched over our weary shoulder, we noticed smiles. People chewing. How were these poor people being fed? Perhaps a box of mildly old Cheeze-its fell from a passing truck? A dumpster diving hipster let it slip that his parents just sent him $500 and the patrons tore him limb from scrawny limb (it wasn’t very hard) for the dough? No!

Gasp. They were being served food behind the bar. Double gasp. For free. Triple gasp. Hotdogs (note, three gasps = a gag). Hell, we didn’t care. We’d lost our sense of taste hours ago. Bon appetite! (French for “dig in drunky”).

Rudy’s 9^th Avenue between 44^th and 45^th

Gigantic pig statue that guards the entrance – 5 olives – You know this place is the real New York. That pig tried to sell us weed.

Abducted blonde girl tied up in pit – 2 olives – Someone buy that poor doll a beer!

Disney’s version of Tarzan on Broadway – .5 olives - Trying to appeal to a more urban audience, the Mickeys gussied up this old tale with some of their copyrighted Times Square grit. The show closed in a year. Apparently audiences didn’t find a HIV stricken male hustler “believable” as the much adored monkey lover.

Using duct tape creatively – 5 olives – We always wondered what hot dogs were made of.

Comments

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Shawn D. Dunne
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