In a world so often devoid of necessary things, there seems to be an abundance of bars that you have to access through a secret washing machine in the back of a laundromat. A bar that requires a special knock and a verbal code to gain access. A bar that, speaking from personal experience, requires that you find an obscure metal door under a bridge in Berlin. When you get there and knock, a man in a black tophat opens the door to lead you into an underground watering hole. There, you can pay the equivalent of twenty US dollars to have a gin martini but- there’s a cucumber slice in there. This is now a curated, one of a kind experience that’s sure to make it into your study abroad travel blog.
If you’re on any type of social media you have probably seen videos of people going to these cool places just to prove they know something you don’t. A lot of it is probably rooted in nostalgia. A lot of us who grew up here felt excited about drinking when it was illegal. Everyone at college drank underage, but it was a fun sexy not so secret, secret. Now that we’re in our twenties and we can drink whenever we want, some people want to spice it up. To role play illegality. The lure of prohibition.
If everyone you know can drink, you might as well find a way to feel special about it again. To feel like you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be.
So what brings us to this desire for secrecy? To being part of an exclusive club? Why do we want to do things when they feel like breaking a rule?
It’s been said that well behaved women seldom make history. In middle school my dad bought me that quote printed on a sign for my room. Maybe it was a slight suggestion that 14 year old me had never broken a rule in her life. It’s weird to think that a lot of breakthroughs and discoveries and quote “fun shit” happen outside the boundaries of what we’re supposed to do. Things feel fun when they aren’t allowed. It’s like being a kid staying up past your bedtime or being a Senator who is publicly pro-life but privately subsidizing his misstress’ abortions.
Exclusivity is alluring because of scarcity. Do not ask me much about this because the 49% on my Econ final will surely discredit my authority on the matter. But, scarcity promotes value. We think the word-of-mouth bar is cool and sexy because it’s hard to find. Because you have to know someone to get in. Because it’s on the second page of the google search, where nobody has dared venture before.
This is probably a caveat but one of my biggest pet peeves in the world is when bars name drinks in such a way that you have to mortify yourself to order them. Why is this happening. Why can’t you just number them on a list. What the fuck is in a “Don’t Tell Mother I Wet The Bed.” And why is it $19.
You guys really liked my air fryer thing last week. Thank you for all the positive feedback. After something is published that is well received, my well runs dry. Is there anything left to talk about? Probably. If complaining about things is what people want, then this Jewish American princess has a lot more to say. If you didn’t like today’s as much, you can tell me. It’ll be our little secret.
The best thing I ate this week:
Was a sausage egg and cheese on a fresh sesame bagel from my local deli. I actually can’t tell you the name because I worry about the day when the Infatuation discovers it and then there are lines out the door and I have to wait for my little sandwich. The reason it was so fucking good is because I get it with provolone instead of American cheese. I took it home and put gochujang sriracha on it. So now it counts as cooking. American cheese is the worst thing America has done besides genocide. Happy national cheese lover’s day, please go drink some water.