We all have favourite haunts. Different haunts for different kinds of hauntings, of course. For books, for a cup of coffee, for grabbing a burger, for sharing a drink…now this sharing a drink bit is of special interest to me, since, well, I love drinking (not quite an alcoholic yet, don’t panic). Who doesn’t love a nice, chilled glass of beer? I am sure you do. And if you don’t, chances are I will never really love you either. Not loving beer is almost as bad as not loving cats. True story. So, anyhow, usually after a tiring day of work, I head to this seedy little pub called Olypub. It’s a shady place that I love visiting for a good, cheap glass of beer. The waiters are friendly and always eager for a tip. Often, you can hear loud meowing, and while you look everywhere for the source of the meow, you’ll suddenly see a pair of eyes staring back at you from within the vent in the wall. The first time I had seen that, I was positively mortified. I was panicking. The cat will surely die if she stays stuck there. Dafuq? After interrogating the weary waiters, I am told she likes sitting there from time to time. Okay. Great then. So. I like Olypub. It’s a friendly place with strange people and weird animals (yes, you can often spot rats there too).
So here are a few photos of Olypub, where we go, get mindlessly drunk and mindlessly philosophical/poetic. (love that place, I tell you)
That’s my bff Biswa with my bf, Aveek. Happy, drunken people. Cheers!
And that’s a whole lot of beer, evidently.
That’s Biswa and I. Mindlessly laughing, evidently.
Oh. Looky, looky! Kitten at Oly.
So, that’s Olypub for you. A wonderful little bar (let’s face it, it’s not exactly a pub, okay?) where you can go and sit sit endlessly with friends, enemies, whatever. Watch the rats. Overhear inane conversations of loud, drunk people. Watch funny drunk people tottering about. Maybe you can even witness a lethargic, half hearted bar fight. If all else fails, keep an eye out for a cat or two. Or just make do with the rats. Oh, and they make amazing beef steaks (so I have heard. I don’t eat beef. I am fond of cows, the way I am fond of pigs and goats, etc) and chicken a la kievs! Give it a shot.
It also happens to be a favourite hangout spot of NRIs (yes, non-resident Indians) who get all drunk and nostalgic in Olypub and make it a point to bring along their foreign friends too. I would too, if I were an NRI. But I am not. Hic!