Nondescript exterior. You wouldn’t know it was a bar unless you KNEW it was a bar. That’s cuz Gilly doesn’t want you to know. Maybe its cuz he wants to keep it awesome for the locals. Maybe its cuz it isn’t a real bar. With a bowling shuffleboard game, juke box, ladies and mens restroom and enough schnapps to feed a small army, it looks like a bar from the inside. However with prices like he has, if this place was meant for the general public… well. i don’t know if it would last. $ 10 for 2 shots and 3 beers. Yah, you heard me. Not a destination point if you are looking for the hip happening part of town… but when you are staying in the house next door… makes bar going easy in the snow. No complaining that its cold… the mere 2 steps to this awesome watering hole make it a destination for the lazy. And when its 20 degrees out… with a windchill that makes it feel like its 0. Yes… I am lazy.
Mick F.
Classificação do local: 5 San Diego, CA
Per Gilly, i promised to not put the address in. Why? «I dont want no one knowing about it.» Plus, i think he lives there. No…im serious. His apartment is kind of IN the bar. I almost think that the bar itself is a part of his apartment. So yeah… Gilly’s…Woooo…where do i begin? Imagine a bar that Dale Ernhardt’s grandfather would go to after bagging three 12 point bucks to pound canned beer and listen to Merle Haggard. Punch yourself in the head sixteen times and then open your eyes and imagine it again. We sat down. Im with my bro and my Pops. Pops kinda knows the entire state of NY on a colliquial level, and pretty much makes friends everywhere he goes. How? «Gilly…lemme buy the bar a round.» At this point, im WTF’ing at my Pops, because well, if i pulled that shit here, id be broke for 3 months. «Ok, Mike.» Gilly scans the bar… effectively tallying up the massive total. «Alright then Mike… lets have $ 11.» No, Gilly… clearly youre mistaken. My dad said the ENTIRE bar, not a pint and a shot. «Yeah, $ 11.» At this point, my Pops slaps down a ten, a five and some other currency, gives me the famous Frederick patented squint and slow methodical nod, and whips out a Winston Red and lights it. I ask what beer he has… «Genny, Genny Light and Genny Cream Ale. I might have a Bud or two in the back fridge.» Mick swoons at Genny Cream. So i take a Genny Screamer and order a shot of Jack. «No Jack. I have Black Velvet or Crown Royal.» My dad ups me by ordering blackberry Schnapps. Fuck man. The guy is pure maniacal genius. My brother, in his better judgement, passes on the Schnapps and opts for one of three bottled Buds in Gilly’s fridge. So we are there for about an hour, when about 4 or 5 scantilly(against THEIR better judgement) local fillies pop in, in a lovely assortment of trasheriffic Halloween costumes. Pirate, witch, vampire, NASCAR driver. As my eyes are gaping in amazement at the round buying, the LOVELY delicious costumes, at the IN-THE-BAR smoking, and the offhanded realization that i totally got the squint-and-nod from the Pops, i look over at my bro who is smoking a Winster and giving me the nod. I smile… almost on a tear jerking moment, and look back at my dad who is slamming his 4th shot of Blackberry Schnapps(genius), flips me a Winston and says, «When in Rome…»
