Cheap but not easy: A night with Stuart and the Intern
As an ode to his resolutions and to not be a jerk to his intern any longer, Stuart has proposed a weekly rendevous with yours truly. Whether it’s going to check out somewhere new, getting some beers or catching a show, we’re going out and blogging the findings. Think of it as seeing into one of our nights out every single week. Oh, the voyeurism is titillating!
For our first installment, it was Stuart’s idea to head to Berkeley to catch The Devil Makes Three for free at Amoeba. It was not his idea however to do research prior to heading out. We get off the Ashby BART station, only to find that we should have gotten off at the Downtown Berkeley station. After an obscene amount of walking we finally find Amoeba on Telegraph, 20 minutes too late. This is the view we were treated to:
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Nonetheless, we managed to squeeze in eventually and enjoy the show from a much closer angle. They sounded great and were awesome to the crowd — if you get a chance, you need to see them live. Guaranteed to get your money’s worth.
In need of a stiff, cheap drink, we wandered out to the street and tried to ask kids who looked like they went to UC Berkeley about where we could find a dive bar that would service our needs. After many douchebags and pairs of Ray-Ban sunglasses, we finally found a messenger through a sweet, unassuming lady who looked like she had just finished a workout. She said: “Go to Triple Rock on Shattuck. They have cheap drinks.” Even though the smell of her yoga mat was overwhelming, we decided to trust her.
Another spell of obscene amount of walking later, we show up at the Triple Rock. We see wings and chili cheese fries — definite good sign. Stu wanted to sit, but I told him we should look at a menu first; it looked too good to be true. And it was! $11 for a fucking liter of beer? Are you KIDDING me? This wasn’t going to do — not on the pretense that I only had a $20 in my pocket and I was expecting to get fucked up.
After wandering around in denial for a little longer, we gave up. I threw my hands up and Stu was on the verge of tears.
That’s right, kids — Berkeley owned us. Its sweet, tree hugging, foodie lovin, plenty of parkin self owned us like no other…so we decided to flee. After some negotiating, we ended up at Naan N Curry in the Tenderloin — a no-brainer — and Edinburgh Castle for some inexpensive, intoxicating brews.
When we’re on home turf nothing can stop us, but we have to get some credit for venturing [or stumbling] blind into the unknown. Until next week, Berkeley sucks.
-Monica the Intern