Drove up to the Rock Star's house to hang. The family is on vacation. I thought it would be video games and cocktails for most of the day after a quick lunch out.
"Actually, just last week, I was at the Upper East Side for BBQ for lunch and when my buddy and I got there, it was closed..." Rock Star's voice trails off. "Oh... you have GOT to be kidding me..."
We are in Williamsburg in Brooklyn, crossing Metropolitan Ave. All I can see is an alley leading past a building with a locked gate in front of it. If this is a BBQ joint, I've certainly seen prettier exteriors.
"Well, I guess I'm two for two... since BBQ is closed, let's grab a beer," says Rock Star. We head over to Spuyten Duyvil and I get a Belgian Weiss and Rock Star has a Weiss draft. We sit in the back garden catching up on old times. We've known each other since high school and are still both in music, even if we are at two opposite ends of the spectrum.
The Zombies Come Out...
It's one p.m. There are four hours to kill before the BBQ joint opens. We are two survivors of a zombie outbreak. The infected are everywhere and we are shooting them and moving as quickly as possible. We travel through the decrepit cityscape. Occasionally swarms of them appear and we must hunker down and fend them off with all manner of guns. In between defending ourselves, Rock Star goes up to his extensive home bar and says, "Check out this cocktail, it's got some custome bitters from back home. It's tart yet sweet and oh so smooth..." The zombies start to blur a bit on the screen. It's gripping stuff and at 6 p.m. when we finally put down our Xbox controllers and shamble ourselves off to eat, we recount the stories of how we survived the zombie apocalypse.
The Bass Player's Story...
He jams a cell phone into my face. Rock Star knows The Bass Player but we haven't really been introduced. "I was walking around McCarren Park when... Watch this video." I look at the postage stamp sized screen and I see a giant pink ape playing the bass and a man in a skunk costume playing the xylophone. "Listen, man! I thought it was shit but then I see these kids around him, dancing. They are going fucking nuts and then I realize. These guys are tearing it up." He is so excited his PBR is splashing a bit on his blazer and khaki cargo shorts. They are called the Xylofolks.
We are having a pre-dinner drink and hearing a band play in Greenpoint. I don't know the bar. I barely know how we got here. The music is good but dinner awaits.
We are having a pre-dinner drink and hearing a band play in Greenpoint. I don't know the bar. I barely know how we got here. The music is good but dinner awaits.
And They Ate Meat...
We didn't just eat any old meat, but we ate home smoked meat. Because of the war with the zombies, we didn't arrive at Fette Sau until well after the dinner crowd was in full swing. We waited for close to an hour until we got to the meat counter. You point at hunks of cooked tongue, sausage and ribs. You point at sides. You get everything on butcher paper and then hit the bar for micro-brews and scotch. You head to the picnic tables where you sit with strangers and melt into dinner. We ate with our fingers and took the split leftovers to take back to our respective homes for hash and eggs the next day.
