Attention please: I have received a text message from Thomas, who bartends at the Room in Manhattan and is possibly the best bartender in New York, owing to his encyclopedic knowledge of indy rock, and his easy-going demeanor.
Back in January, Thomas cajoled me into participating in the Idiotarod, a race/pub-crawl featuring a variety of themed teams pushing decked out shopping carts that is an annual rite of passage for people who like to get shit-faced in costumes in freezing weather. We signed on to a mock-German, leder-hosen-clad team that billed itself as The Master Racers.
Get it?
Our team distinguished itself as the sole group to have as part of its cart an actual keg of beer. We also had a small stove and sausages. (See associated photos.)
The Master Racers (most of them) shortly after crossing the Pulaski Bridge into Queens. The legal aggression went down not long afterwards.
Well, unfortunately, there were imperial entanglements in the borough of Queens. There were cop cars, full of allegation-leveling, citation-scribbling cops. The police affected criminal charges on two of our team’s members, Thomas and Kelly.
Kelly has had her day in court, today it appears, and the cops failed to show.
Thomas sent me a text, and I’ve decided that, to salute his courage, his resolve, and his leder-hosen, I’m going to update you, the reader, on his status as his case winds its way through the halls of justice.
And now, in Thomas’s own words and images, via text message:
TM: I am about to head into Queens County courthouse to defend the Master Racers’ right to drink anywhere they damn well choose. May the beer gods rest on my shoulder and humankind prevail.
LS: If there is any fine let me know.
12:03 p.m.
TM: After reporting to face trial the judge looked my way and proceeded to call for a two hour lunch break. I think he’s scared. I’m off to McDonald’s to continue my work on my defense.
LS: Can I blog this? Can u give me periodic updates?
TM: Be my quest. Perhaps you can add it to your restaurant blog [editor's note: we do more than restaurants, but, let's not get bogged down here]. There is an incredibly long line at McDonald’s so I might try what appears to be a new restaurant called Pasta Lovers. There is a large sign out front which reads “Now serving traditional breakfast” perhaps the judge will be dining nearby and I can offer him a Danish
Picture by Thomas Morrison and his cell phone.
TM: Starters: bread by a local bakery named Wonder.
TM: my friendly waitstaff eager to serve. Supposedly they are natives of a small town in Northern Italy I’ve never heard of called Oaxaca. I am so excited.
Upon recommendation of the head waiter, Jose, I started with a true Italian tradition … a Greek salad.
TM: While awaiting my main course, I always enjoy inspecting where the kitchen staff does their prep-work.
1:40 pm
LS: Thomas, on behalf of both of Launch Stalker’s readers, I must protest these unseemly images (but still post those motherfuckers lolz)
TM: While awaiting the judge’s return, the line begins to form. Drunk in public and aggravated assault on the left, marriage bureau to the right.
3:13 pm
I am free!!! Thank God almighty on this indeed Good Friday. A very astute looking wise old judge eager to get home for the holidays ruled that I am free to be excused due to insufficient evidence. Apparently wearing lederhosen in sub-zero weather with a plastic boot filled to the brim with tasty Gaffel Kolsch, and pushing a large shopping cart resembling a giant beer cask with an actual keg in side is not sufficient evidence. The beers are on me tonight as I dance through the streets probably in a toga.
