If Rudey's existed, I think I'd be a regular. What's Rudey's, you ask? Read on, as Owl Meat takes us there.
Tired of robot corporate service? Sick of false pleasantries? Come to Rudey's, where you will be treated like the miserable dog you are.
I hate fake nice service. Genuine nice is great, but fake nice makes my skin crawl. Think hotel bars. I'm talking to you, Harbor East Marriott.
That's where Rudey's comes in. Rudey's is the bar where you and your bartender can be all man-gressive and get yer ya yas out. Think of the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld. Good product, efficient service, and no fluffing your ego. Unlike the Soup Nazi, you get to dish it out too. ...
This is probably a guy thing. I enjoy places where I have street rapport with bartenders. It's a cathartic male bonding thing.
A bartender recently suggested a beer called Arrogant Bastard. Half-listening, I heard yadda yadda Arrogant Bastard. I responded with a mild profanity. Oops, that was a beer not a greeting. We laughed.
At one of my favorite watering holes, a Russian waitress and friend used to greet me at happy hour with, "Hey, you chip baztard." Once I realized that she was referring to my attendance at happy hour and not my tipping habits, it made me laugh.