Don't get me wrong, Black Rock isn't entirely a terrible place, and it does have a few redeeming qualities. But there's no disguising the fact that it's part of Bridgeport, a city that could be quite lovely, but resembles a Third World country or Newark.
A few weeks back a friend of mine insisted that we meet her for drinks at Brennan's Shebeen, an Irish Pub & Restaurant on the outskirts of Black Rock (meaning, the section of Fairfield Avenue right before it gets real sketchy). I went begrudgingly, but my friend insisted, as she told me that her boyfriend's band was playing there that night, and that they were "really awesome". I had nothing else going on, so I figured I'd give it a try.
Once upon a time, I quite liked Black Rock and all the bars it had to offer. The drinks were cheap, the people entertaining, and it had just the right amount of sketchiness. Of course, I was 23 years old then, and my tastes have changed.
The issue with a place like Brennan's Shebeen (which is quite nice inside), and all of the other spots in Black Rock these days, is it's like going to the Fairfield County barfly's equivalent of a baseball old-timers game. Each and every bar is filled with the same people who have been trolling the scene for at least a decade or two, and it's quite depressing. The only thing that has changed is that they are fatter, drunker, have a few more tattoos, and have switched from weed to coke or crystal meth.
On this particular night when I was at "The Shebeen" (as its been dubbed), I walked in, and instantly recognized ten people who I hadn't seen in years, and wished at least another ten years would go by before seeing them again,
For starters, I saw a guy I went to high school with who was accompanied by his new bride. They were going on and on about how living and Black Rock is sooooo great, and how they get to walk to all these wonderful bars and restaurants.
Then I saw a girl I met offline after chatting in an AOL chatroom back in '01 (remember those days?). She ignored me at the Shebeen, which was just as well. She looked lovely back in '01 (I think she was all of 16), but the last twelve years haven't been so kind to her, and she might want to consider not slugging down so much Guiness as she was doing at the Shebeen.
The real piece de resistance, though, was a guy who I have known for a few years now. I had heard that he and his wife have been having problems of late, and he wasn't handling it so well. Now if he weren't a boring wallflower who refused to enjoy tying one on, then I'd try to take him out for a few drinks. Sure enough, he was at the Shebeen...by himself, drinking a cranberry juice and club soda, and eating wings.
When the music started playing (which was an awful mix of mid to late-90s rock...think Live, Seven Mary Three, Blink 182, etc), my non-drinking acquaintance would occasional bop his head back and forth.
I lasted all of an hour that night at Brennan's Shebeen, and here is a typical case of a bar being quite nice (there's a fire place, and the environment is very cozy, drinks are stiff), but being plagued by the fact that it's in a mediocre area with a downright awful crowd. So why- you ask- do I choose to focus on Brennan's Shebeen as the inaugural post of this blog? It is hardly, after all, typical of CT Gold Coast nightlife. Well, it's because here is a place that could be quite nice. The bartenders are friendly, I've heard the food is quite good, and they get a good turnout on weekends for people who wish to watch soccer games (you know, now that every average twenty and thirtysomething Fairfield County idiot has an AC Milan or Manchester United jersey)
I left the Shebeen that night before my friend and her boyfriend even showed. She texted me, asking me why I left. To that, I replied, "the crowd was pretty bad...the band was even worse". She then reminded me that the members of the band were her boyfriend's good friends. I suggested that he consider getting some new ones.
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