I know I should probably have reviewed Doug's new place BLEACHER'S after its opening party a month ago, but there would have been a couple of problems. Well, one problem: Doug wanted to see if I'm the party grrl everyone says I am. Let's just say a bottle of absinthe later, I'm pretty sure he knows the answer to that.
I'm not sure where I woke up after that party, but it certainly wasn't my place. My roommate was freaking! Forget the walk of shame - this was a whole Metro ride of shame. Somewhere between Bleacher's and this expat guy's cheesy evroremont apartment, I'd blown all my cash. That wasn't all I lost either. The guy was some expat pervert collector or something, because I couldn't even find my underwear in the morning. If you're reading this, Jason, I hope you like sniffing my skidmarks, 'cause you can kiss my ass bye-bye in the figurate sense! Fucker.
Besides, Bleacher's is a sports bar, and so I figured I'd wait 'til the World Cup to give it a real review. Everyone already knows that Doug, Marty and the gang are the Western Experts on How To Throw A Kickass Party:but what about running a sports bar? Is it a big leap? Turns out the first night of the World Cup was also the first day they were given the license to serve booze - as opposed to giving it away, which I preferred - so it was basically the real opening anyways. (Guys, I may be liberated, but that doesn't mean I don't like to be treated to drinks!)
I went with my friend Annie because what's more English than football (that's right American meatheads, I'm using the world word "football" for the word you use for "soccer" because I'm not an ignorant idiot like y'alls)? And she's totally into the game. Seriously.
I think football's pretty cool, too, 'cause it isn't all about testosterone and violence like the American version. These guys are just pure athletes. And they're so cute too! You can sit there checking out the winning team's totally ripped abs at the end of the match. I'll admit, football makes me sooo horny.
Even considering the flabby expat guy factor at the bar, it's got a pretty sweet layout. You'll feel comfortable as hell here, unlike pretentious lame-ass places like 30/7. Where else in Moscow are you going to get free darts? They've got foozeball too, but you got to buy tokens (unless you're a sexy chick like me). They've also done a great job segregating the gambling part of the bar from the sports fan part. Unlike Sportland, I might add. On everything from food and service to number of TVs and the easy-to-conquer-guy-factor, it's got Sportland beat hands-down.
But let's be perfectly honest, the real question about Bleacher's is, are people going to be willing to make the treat all the way out to - gasp - Proletarskaya metro? Don't ask me - I'm not a bourgeois inner-Garden Ring dweller, so no sweat off of my tits. Turns out the place was totally packed until Ecuador buried the second goal at like 1 am, so I guess there's your answer.
You'll recognize all the usual suspects from the Boar House of yore, but with more Russians mixed in. That just means more victims for me. And believe me, I'll be back for more, this time without the underwear. That way I'll be more ready for a bathroom bang, and I won't wake up the next morning all grossed out thinking about some freak pervert smelling my panties.