I’m one week away from being 30. One week from entering into a new decade where it’s no longer acceptable to go to bars and not remember my Uber ride home. One week from having to be “in my thirties” rather than “in my late twenties.” One week from staring my forties in the face for the next ten years. Even though I’m closer to being 21 than I am to being 40, though, I’ve never felt more separated from that age group.
And I’m definitely not alone in that thinking.
Phil’s Crummy Corner, a Brooklyn bar located at 323 Columbia Street, has gone against the grain and raised their drinking age from the nation-wide standard of 21 to the age of 25. 25 is also the universal age where two-day hangovers come into play and you start thinking about heading home around midnight instead of 2 a.m.
The bar had apparently become bogged down by a younger clientele. Being in Brooklyn, I can only assume that it was a dive-y place discovered by some small contingent of miserable hipsters who popularized it and ran it into the ground by exclusively ordering Tecates and cocktails with at least five different ingredients.
One resident who lived near the bar said of the younger patrons, “They’re animals. Friday and Saturday night, it’s like animal town.” This person sounds like me in the middle of a shitty club saying, “Hey, can we go somewhere else? It’s too loud in here,” while some shitstick remix of an already remixed Chainsmokers song blasts through my skull at a million decibels.
In the most relatable explanation of why one neighboring resident was glad for the change, he explained, “I just want to be able to sleep on Friday and Saturday nights. That’s all I care about.” Lame? Yes, without a doubt. But when one of my roommates has someone at the house and they listen to music (that probably isn’t even that loud) past 12 o’clock on a Friday, I suddenly turn into Clint Eastwood from Gran Torino and debate walking downstairs with a shotgun to threaten them into silence.
I, myself, have been to one other bar that has implemented something similar to this. A Houston bar, Kirby Ice House, raised their drinking age to 23 in what I’ve been told is to keep the #vibes a little older and a little more responsible. Changing it to 23 pretty much just says, “If you’re in college, get the fuck out.” But honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t need some young whippersnapper usurping the TouchTunes and taking over my Van Morrison with some EDM band that only sounds good while rolling on molly. .
[via Press Union]
Image via Google Maps