The $2 shot turns out to be a very small mixed drink at 123BurgerShotBeer.Com. This one has the charming name of “Panty Dropper.”
The siren song of the storefront is irresistible: It seems to suggest you’ll be able to buy a burger for $1, a shot of hard liquor for $2, and a beer for $3. “Why is the beer the most expensive thing?” you wonder as you traipse into the darkened Hell’s Kitchen sports bar.
The offer seems simple enough as advertised on the awning–though why is “dot com” part of the name? Is the bar a flawed real-world representation of the more-genuine website?
Once inside, I asked one of the enthusiastic bartenders for the signature offer. It was a little heavy on the booze and light on the food for the midday hour–but what the hell!
Without breaking character, the bartender beamed at me, “Well, you see,” pushing his baseball cap back and leaning toward me confidentially, “you can’t just buy one burger, you have to buy three.” I deadpanned him. “And all together, the three will cost you $3.75.” As it turned out, every item in the offer also charged tax and incorporated a 15 percent service charge.
He continued, “the shot is $2.50 not $2, and the beer is $3.75 instead of $3.” I felt slightly dizzy seeing the prices inflating right before my eyes.
“What kind of shots do you have? What kinds of tequila?” I inquired.
“Well, here’s the list of shots.” I might have blanched as I ran my eye down the list, which included, not recognizable names of hard liquor, but goofy monikers that neglected to mention even the type of alcohol, things like Screaming Orgasm, Redheaded Slut, Alabama Slam Her, Eat My Peaches, and, the one I chose, I’ll never know why, Panty Dropper.
The Panty Dropper was really just a tiny mixed drink, for which I had paid (the guy demanded cash up front, or a line of credit) $2.50, which is about twice what the thing was worth.
Waiting for the gullible and budget-seeking masses
Lined up, the sliders couldn’t even reach the edge of the plate.
The meal was soon to turn from disappointment to high comedy. I’d opted for the required three sliders, figuring that three sliders would probably make an almost-meal. Well, I burst into laughter when the things arrived, carefully arranged on the paper plate. They were about one bite each, so that the pickle chips provided easily eclipsed the actual burger patties. And the tiny mouse buns were still stuck together, as if it were too much trouble to separate them.
But, hey, they didn’t taste too bad. Once again, though, the three were worth at most $1 for all of them, rather than the $3 plus extra charges.
There were problems with the beer, too, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t get what I ordered, so the $3 plus add-ons turned out to be not so good a deal for the beer, either.
I can see why this place, clearly hoping to become a franchise like Hooters, isn’t making much progress. The name of the place should be: A Bar That Makes You Feel Cheated. Then everyone could be in on the joke.
This is called a slider because it could slide off your hand, and you wouldn’t even notice.
$1 + $2 + $3 somehow adds up to $10.
738 Tenth Avenue
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on May 22, 2012