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Floyd in NYC: So Much Beer, So Few Dollars

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There are a few reasons a person might drink six cans of shit beer in one sitting. Getting fired. Getting dumped. The United States losing to Ghana. Weekday afternoons. You know, truly heartbreaking shit.

Luckily, like most necessities in this city, there is a bar for that. Floyd, which sits somewhere in between Cobble Hill, Brooklyn Heights and Downtown Brooklyn, will sell you a bucket of crud in a can '“ appropriately titled the Crap-a-copia '“ for $15.  There’s no specific formula of the six beers that come in the bucket, but the usual suspects include PBR, High Life, Colt 45 and Shaefer.

For those about to stay away from the siren song of Schlitz, Floyd salutes you too '“ there’s a happy hour that runs until 7 pm each weekday good for a buck off your rail booze of choice or wine and beer. The bar also features indoor bocce ball and will be projecting World Cup matches during the tournament.

But let’s keep our eyes on the prize here. Six beers for $15! At that price, Floyd will leave your liver crying, not your wallet. The kind bartenders at this Brooklyn watering hole will not judge you for ordering it or ask you if you need to '˜talk to someone.’ They will just hand over the beer. And thank god for that '“ it has been a rough Monday.

131 Atlantic Ave. (between Clinton and Henry)
[Cobble Hill, Brooklyn]
Six cans of beer for $15

photos courtesy of Floyd’s own flickr
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Polina Yamshchikov - Flirt Poor

Polina Yamshchikov - Flirt Poor

Polina is Siberian by way of Alabama, and therefore cannot pronounce "fire" or "iron" correctly but despite this can still woo men with her cooking skills and enormous Russian cheeks. She can usually be spotted on the streets of Brooklyn either yelling into a cell phone in one of five languages or swilling gin at an inappropriate hour of the morning.


  1. Roland T. Poppycock
    June 29, 2010 at 12:24 pm

    You’re good, Flirt Poor. “Siren song of Schlitz.” I like this.

  2. Polina Yamshchikov - Flirt Poor
    June 30, 2010 at 6:43 am

    You’re sly, Poppycock. Flattery will get you everywhere.