The Bar: Arcadia Club of Worcester – The White Eagle.
The Address: 120 Green Street.
The price: Four Dollars
Did they ask me if I wanted a lime– No, hell i was lucky I got a drink, let’s not quibble over bar fruit, shall we?
I should explain. When I came in on a Sunday at 8, there were two people working, but the woman bartender was out front smoking a cigarette so the honor of waiting on me was given to a young man with welcoming look (I’m sure that won’t last long) I asked him for a gin and tonic and I swear there was a look of panic on his face. He went over to the bottles behind the bar and stared. And stared. And stared again. He took out a pint glass and looked at the bottles again and hoped something would come to him like inspiration. He leaned into the ear of the now returned female bartender and asked her something. She shrugged and pointed and he made me a drink. He put it in front of me and said, “Sorry, I’ve only been here for three weeks.” I smiled graciously.
But let me just say, what the hell? Is the Gin and Tonic such a strange exotic concoction that after three weeks he didn’t come across such a thing? As I go on this tour I am seeing that the gin and tonic can be perceived as a foreign invader into this land of Bud Lights and straight whiskeys. Poor gin and tonic, you need a support group and a public awareness campaign. Buck up little gin and tonic, we still love you.
What was the type of gin – Whatever the confused young bartender found and poured, I think it was gin, yeah, I’m sure it was gin. Let’s call it gin.
What was the gin and tonic like: It was fine. I had already had a few drinks at another place, which is not fair for me tasting the drink here, but there you go.
The Joint: I was there only briefly, just to have my drink and go. The place was large. Big and boxy. More spacious than it needed to be. It had the feel of a waiting room. Waiting for what is truly up to you. There were several rooms moving back. The ceilings were high, the place had a strange cold lighting. This felt like a set for a low budget movie where the seedy main character would come in to meet someone, have a drink, start a bar fight, move to the next set.
General Impressions: This was one where I didn’t even know it was a bar. For years, when I was driving on Green Street, I would see the cool old school sign for the Arcadia- White Eagle, I had no idea what the hell it was, I thought it was a welfare hotel with nifty signage. But I was talking to Short Order Steve and he told me about it, how he would pass it to go to one of his favorite places, The Banner, and he never had the nerve to go in. I had a few, so I didn’t care. I went in and went out. Kind of like the kid who was dared to go into Old Lady McGuillicudy’s Haunted House – no one has ever come out alive. Well I went in, the place was fine and I left.
Will I come back: Maybe if I was younger, and wanted to be cool and authentic, but I don’t need that. It was alright, and then we move on.