A few weeks ago I was reading about the resurgence of sensory deprivation chambers in NYC when something snapped in my brain and I suddenly realized that I’d had enough. When I moved to the city almost a decade ago I said I’d never live in NYC longer than 2 years, but the city sucks you in. With every passing day of living in New York City you become more addicted to the city while simultaneously slipping into a state of constantly loathing for all the pussification can change taking place around you. When I first moved to NYC after college I was a raging alcoholic (albeit a functional alcoholic), going out 6 or 7 nights a week and blacking out most of those days. We’d pub crawl for friend’s birthdays and holidays like St. Patrick’s Day.
For the first 5 or so years I lived in NY I don’t think I stepped foot in a classy establishment, only drinking in the darkest and moldiest bars we could find, and me and my friends were not alone in doing this (millions of others only drank in dive bars). Sadly, based on the story below about NYC’s latest ‘drinking’ craze I think that era of NYC is dead. This death of an era (an era that actually died several decades ago) is mostly thanks to the gentrification by hipsters all throughout the city, but the hipsters in Brooklyn, the Lower East Side, and the East Village are the ones that are the most at fault here. And I’m 100% aware of the irony of my ranting, because I myself am a transplant to this city (though my family’s been in NY for over 100 years).
To call this new NYC trend a ‘drinking craze’ would be bullshit, because there’s no true drinking going on at all. New York City’s latest hipster craze is a ‘juice crawl’, and they’re calling it a ‘pub crawl for juices’.
The New York Post reports:
On a recent Thursday night, 50 frisky people did the chicken dance and then the conga along Mulberry Street, wearing light-up, neon-colored headphones blasting Gloria Estefan & Miami Sound Machine’s “Conga” in their ears.
Bystanders looked on, confused. A restaurant owner ran out of his establishment and screamed, “What the f–k is this?!” at the revelers.
But the dozens of street dancers weren’t drunk and disorderly; they were high on nothing more than life — and cold-pressed kale and cucumbers. They were on a juice crawl.
Last October, Anna Garcia, a 28-year-old East Village resident, held the first official Juice Crawl. It sold out, and Garcia, a freelance trumpet player, has since held eight other crawls, with two more to come in October. “People loved it, and I decided to see how far I can take this,” she says. “I’m working to make Juice Crawl huge.”
In an era where sexy singles head to SoulCycle — not the Limelight — for throbbing beats and endorphins, it seems only natural that it’s come to this.
Tickets for each event range from $15 to $50 and include tastings of as many as 25 juices from three to five different shops. A recent sold-out crawl through Soho and the East Village was also a “quiet clubbing” party, with participants wearing headphones blaring all the same songs, allowing them to dance together without inflicting cheesy pop tunes on innocent pedestrians.
It was Mahatma Gandhi who once said “you must be the change you wish to see in the world”, and that quote is really kicking me in the junk right now. Because while I’m sitting here typing out this blog post I should be running a pub crawl business that’d take tourists to all of the bars in NYC that are about to be condemned, so they could see some of the true Gotham has to offer. And I’m being serious here. Wouldn’t you bros drop $15 to be a part of an NYC pub crawl that took you to the darkest dive bars in the city?! That sounds like the dream to me.
You know what does NOT sound like the dream to me? A ‘Juice Crawl‘. But as some of you might secretly be interested in doing this you can follow that link to get to the NYC Juice Crawl website to sign up and/or find out more about this latest hipster craze. Or you can follow that link above to the New York Post to read a first-hand telling of just how awful the NYC Juice Crawl can be (if it’s not something you’re interested in doing).