I’m not throwing away my shot: The year in Brooklyn bar culture, 2016

This article appears as part of Brokelyn’s “Year in Review” series, which will continue throughout the week. 

Drinking has gone from habit to necessity in the year 2016, and Brooklyn’s bars have undoubtedly reaped the fruits of our misery. We certainly don’t fault them for being on the come-up in the wake of America’s comeuppance. We’re just glad to have a constantly revolving door of solid places to drown our sorrows, revel in what’s left of our hopes and dreams, and occasionally get our taxes done in the process.

In that spirit (never gets old), we present to you: This Year in Bars, in the form of beer and shot specials you might find at any of our borough’s fine watering holes. Which one of our specials/bar roundups suits your tastes and qualities best? Read on to gain that liquid knowledge, my friend, and here’s hoping our livers survive the next four years. 

Call Your Mother: Narragansett + Beefeater, for the NYC transplant. You’re a study in contradictions, bringing road beers from one party to another but taking weekend trips to Montauk. You secretly love Manischevitz.

Calm down, Pal: Dale’s Pale Ale + Fireball, For the lush schoolteacher who low-key prefer Queens bars to Brooklyn and will go to comedy shows for the free beer.

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The Classic: PBR + well whiskey, suited to pinball playing young-at-hearts who can paper bag the shit out of a bodega beer and will only take dates to bars where they can do their laundry, too.

The Housecoat: Smuttynose + Jameson, for the solitary bar bookworm who prefers Poe to Palahniuk and only partakes in “happy hour” after all the happy people have gone home. Served in a glass.

Yung Barry: Genesee + well tequila, for those who wish it was always cornhole season, would hop on a beer-drinking internship in a minute, used the election as a party drinking game, and revel in any excuse to imbibe on a patio. Served with a lime and salt.

Eurovision 2000: Stella + infused vodka, for ye of the refined palate whose dream date includes sipping aperol spritz by a pond at some grand chateau, but begrudgingly hosts home bar gatherings with a Cava-filled piano until then.

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I Miss The Eighties: Yuengling + sake, for the career-aoke singer who’s always leading their pack of friends to sharp-shooting dives in Bushwick and will follow their favorite bands to bars post-show and stay up late just to do drunk brunch the next day. Served bomb-style.

The Trotsky: Modelo + Bulleit, suited to the radical socialist thinker for whom CDC guidelines are anathema and the best news of 2016 was having a vegan place to day-drink.

The Fuck 2016, I Hope Morning Never Comes: Duvel + illegally-obtained absinthe, for those who may binge on Brooklyn bars until they die before year’s end in order to avoid putting up with one more minute of it.

Sam is a drinker in the streets and a thinker in her Tweets: @ahoysamantha

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