Bar 11: Pittsburgh Weird-Bar Royalty

As a barely-employed turd on the wrong side of 30, missing out on the 2am last call hasn't exactly been the biggest loss of this whole pandemic ordeal. That's not to say I don't still enjoy a big bar night out here and there, but you really have to pick your spots given the frequency of the dreaded three-day-hangover.

But then something hit me. I was recently watching the Ireland season of No Laying Up and while the golf looked spectacular as always, one particular sight really kicked me in the dick. The boys found a live-music bar in the Irish town of Killarney and proceeded to make dancing fools out of themselves all night, and all I could think was TAKE ME BACK TO THAT TIME.

The South Side is Pittsburgh's Bourbon Street, and just off the main drag is the granddaddy of all late night debauchery - Bar 11. I've probably played my last game at Bar 11, but that doesn't mean we can't relive the glory days. My love for the place just barely overrides my hatred for the Tik Tok generation, so here's hoping those wiggle-dicking idiots can keep the place in business once Tom Wolf allows the kids to party again.

The entrance door looks like an Ed Kemper wet dream - a truly magnificent place to get murdered. I think they've since put a sign on the door, but it was always a bit of a challenge to find. The location off the main drag camouflaged between a bunch of row-homes certainly didn't help, but mostly it was because you really didn't go there without at least 13 fun sodas carousing through the bloodstream.

Just inside the front door, you were hit in the face with a row of those thick clear-plastic streamers hanging from the frame like you see at gas station beer caves. There was usually a bouncer there, who's role was less to check IDs and more to hand out whatever goodies were on tap that night. The most popular items were highlighters and those candy necklaces you could bite and launch into people's faces like a slingshot.

The entire place was lit via Christmas and strobe lights, no matter the time of year. The walls were decked with an assortment of cheap flair and Halloween decorations (again, season notwithstanding). Most of the patrons would use the highlighters to draw their own interpretation of the male reproductive systems and it's influence on society on the faces of friends and strangers alike. Pictured here, it appears someone decided to use my face as a canvas to invoke the ever-challenging left-cheek upside-down ejaculating penis, while my friend received the much simpler but always effective Stanley Ipkiss. If you don't get that reference, just Google it. It's a good thing there's no such thing as going "Neon-Face", or we might have had to cancel his bitch ass.

Getting your first drink was always an adventure in and of itself. The bartenders always snuck a surprise into your (very cheap) drink and never got in trouble for it. Somewhere, Bill Cosby angrily pounds his fist on the table. Included were various toys/trinkets shown on the right, in addition to toy soldiers or fake vampire teeth near Halloween. In all sincerity, the 'tendies were the best in the city for my money. Not only did they deal with the post-midnight Carson Street zombies, but they worked legitimately hard and were incredibly talented. I was mostly a beer drinker, but if you wanted to order a shot, they'd often light it on fire and then blow a flame into the air just for the shit of it. Bear in mind this is a move mostly reserved for ritzy cocktail bars in Vegas serving Ryan-Gosling lookalikes $18 whiskey-sours, not dive bars in Pittsburgh serving $2 PBRs with 4 different fire code violations. There were also a pair of drums hanging from the ceiling just behind the bar, and occasionally the bartenders would stop what they were doing and bang on them to the beat of whatever obnoxious house/rap music was playing. If you were lucky [drunk] enough, it wasn't impossible to get back there yourself and go to town on the sticks.

Bar 11 would host quite a bit of theme nights. There were sand parties, foam parties, and Halloween/Christmas parties. But the most famous by far was the rain party. I'll let the video below do the talking (seriously, watch it), but basically they just turned on the sprinklers and flooded the bar while everyone wore swim gear, snorkels, and got plastered. I'm fairly certain on one occasion, a friend of mine brought a couple bottles of shampoo and poured them all over people's heads, which sounds funny but ended up blinding several of us. Again, I have no clue how any of this was legal let alone safe. I cannot imagine what a nightmare the cleanup was. Simpler times.

Starting to get the picture? Last thing worth mentioning - the legend of the Disco Ball Helmet. You remember that potato gun your uncle owned? All the kids wanted it for themselves, but it was important to take turns firing it off so everyone could enjoy in the fun? Well, that was the DBH, but for drunk adults. Passed around in the bar like a "game ball" for whoever was the MVP of the night, the helmet somehow lasted several years before disappearing into thin air. There was a big controversy online, and Bar 11's patrons/staff tried to hunt down the man pictured above, who was supposedly the last to be seen with it. By the time I moved to Denver in 2016 it still hadn't been found, and I'm not sure if the investigation was ever officially closed. Let's hope they found another one, or at least arrested the bastard responsible.

As of August 4, Bar 11 is still in business but in a holding pattern pending when the governor decides to ease lock-down restrictions. I have no idea what kind of margins the place operates on, but I'm sure it ain't much. If I'm ever back in the 412 post-apocalypse, it might be worth a victory lap for old time's sake.

In the meantime, let's hope the locals keep it in business. A lunatic's paradise like Bar 11 doesn't come around often. The hilariousness of those nights was beyond measure, and the sadness of those days being in the rear-view mirror is exacerbated by the unknown of when any of us will get to enjoy a crowded indoor drink again. I think most of us are ready to get back to normal, especially in places like Bar 11, which are anything but.