For me, heaven’s a hole in the wall on a side street in New York City.

The pool table in the back of the pub is stained from the spilled Sam Adams and Beck’s and the cigarette ash stains caused by innumerable drunk patrons.

The bartenders are beautiful and I know them pretty well. I know about Jen’s deadbeat husband and the kid who she’s got to buy the formula for. I’ve had sex with Jasmine once or twice, but we never talk about it. They know a few things about sports so when the drunks feel like calling them “Sexy” or, if they get too touchy they usually read them the scores and talk about somebody stealing second base.

While I drink my beer I notice the ATM machine, the jukebox, the darkness shrouding the landscape of the bar and the neon that illuminates the faces of the work worn men. And there’s nowhere I’d rather be than sitting on this stool drinking my life away.

*The opinions and ideas expressed are solely those of the author, and may not reflect the opinions of The Bronx Brand*

What Herbert Norat loves most about the Bronx is the diverse group of people that call our beautiful borough home. You can drive from a pub on City Island to a Jamaican restaurant in Gun Hill and shoot over to Little Italy for gelato. It’s all here.

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