Grille 57 – #117 on the Tour

The Bar: Grille 57

The Address 57 Highland Street

The Day and the Time Wednesday 7:50

The price 8

Did they ask me if I wanted a lime She did. Let me just say she seemed a pissed off bartender. Even if I wanted another drink from her, I don’t think I would have.

What was the type of gin Well

What was the gin and tonic like It was a light thing, but decent. Nothing bad.

The Joint Welcome to the weirdness. You thought the weirdness was gone, but no, the weirdness still lives in Worcester in the parking lot to a confused restaurant that serves pub like food and then on the weekend turns into a Euro Dance club. It morphs like Bruce Banner into another creature they call the Kapri Lounge. I didn’t check that out, because as you know, I suck at getting to night clubs. I recall this place when it was Bravo Cafe, which I liked sort of. The pizza was tasty and it was always empty which suited my mood when I decided to go. Now it has a new name, actually two new names, and the insides are exactly the same as they were 15 years ago. It has old tables and a weird glass lego like wall in the middle. The bar is a reverse scallop. And did I mention the surly bartender? But that’s not the weirdness. The weirdness was the singing and drumming and the show like thing that was happening in the parking lot.

General Impressions In the parking lot on this lovely evening of comfortable weather, they put out tables in the front parking lot and roped it off so that an SUV can’t park on the guy eating his pasta and drinking his insanely huge stein of beer. In the corner was a white haired gentleman, sitting on a bar stool, with a microphone in one hand, while looking at the computer in front of him. He was singing to a karaoke backing track. The back track and his vocals were coming through a speaker next to him.  On one side of him was a guy playing drums. The songs were Sinatra and Bennet and that ilk. So let me explain this, there is a guy crooning Sinatra tunes in a parking lot with a drummer and a karaoke track. The drummer would stop from time to time to talk to his girlfriend or have a selfie taken, but that’s okay, because you don’t really need a drummer when you have all the instrumental tracks on a computer file. The crooner had a decent voice and was singing “Fly Me to the Moon.” I stood in the parking lot with mouth agape. What the hell was this? He was singing Volare now for all his worth. And there were people coming for the show. About ten or more with beers and food brought out to them while he puttered with the computer to get the right version of Fly Me to the Moon going. I guess he has several he can chose from, and I bet you its hard to chose because, dammit, they’re all good.

Folks were into it. The owners and the singer were talking about moving it inside because it might start to rain, the singer was disappointed. The rain did not come, but the oddness poured down over all. There are things people like and its wonderful we have places that supply those needs and wants. You want a guy singing standards with a pre-recorded backing track and a live drum thrown in for good measure. We can make that happen. They all seemed to be satisfied. In a few days this place will be a Euro Dance Club. Then it will be a restaurant. Then it will be a Crooner’s Corner in the Parking Lot.  I am waiting for the time it morphs into a giant robot that can protect us for space monsters.

Amount of Time in the Joint 20 minutes

Will I come back No

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