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| - Confession Number One: It is all Erica's fault. She invited me over here after work one day and I said, "You mean Time Out Lounge, right? Are you joking Monkey Pants? Normally that is said like a punch line...right?" She giggled. "They take cards-TOL is cash only. And its fucking cheap." Well. Cheap drinks get me every time. Sure, I 'll try Monkey (snicker) Pants.
As I pulled up, I kept looking around, maybe worried all the hipsters from TOL or Yucca would stand in shock and point down the strip mall "Yo! You in the 'ironic' Genesis shirt and cat eye glasses-didn't you mean to get some shitty beer and download some Pixies on THIS side of the strip mall?!?" And I would have to say..."Yes. I wasn't gonna go to a fucking place called MONKEY PANTS-plfft- C'MON!"
But...Confession 2: I love Monkey Pants. Dude, they take CARDS. Their happy hour is incredibly HAPPY. Buck fifty wells in a PINT glass, heavy handed? Cheap huge basket of fries? Reasonably priced beer ANYWAY? Trivia cards strewn about? Terrifying teddy bear wearing 80s workout clothes, taunting me to be a winner on their wall? More TVs than "Videodrome" or a bad 80s performance art piece (or Remote Control's Champion Room-yeah, MTV reference)? And just when you think you can't triple fist cheap G&Ts any longer...8pm rolls around and its SPECIALS time! Yippie!
Confession 3: I have been here more times than Time Out Lounge...during the day. TOL is for late at night. MP is for when you wanna get someone drunk you don't want your friends to know about and do them fast...and hit the hot hipsters for sloppy scenester seconds after midnight, ya know? Listen, I'm poor. And 15 bucks for being so trashed I had to call up a friend to help me to their house ONE BLOCK AWAY (twice) for over three hours of fun. Shit.
Yeah, the decor is kinda weird, a little Ground Roundish, I love the Legs Lamp, the bathroom is in the weirdest place ever, and you won't find your dream lover in front of the acoustic set they have. But Nate at the bar will take care of you (and your broken dreams), the regulars are ridiculous and your smoker friends can chill on the front patio and bring their drinks with 'em. Plus they have all this popcorn and you can throw at your friends near the shuffle board.
So Monkey Pants completes my Shitty Trifecta of Yucca, Time Out and Monkey-a Bermuda Triangle of Sleaze, if you will.
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