What lurks in the dark, decaying recesses of Rudy’s? Well, besides the creepy customers and discarded, free hot dogs, we may never know. I have on more than several occasions been sauntering by this establishment while an ambulance loads one of its patrons onto a stretcher. That’s the kind of joint this is. It’s an equal opportunity killer–both the young and alcohol-poisoned and the old and cirrhosis-laden. Their liberal door policy allows the kids to mix with the neighborhood derelicts, and with interesting results. The kids think they’re slumming it in this redneck, dive of a bar, and the locals think they’re getting free hot dogs and cheap beer in a joint that’s just a little less claustrophobic than their apartment. Unlike a lot of the honky-tonk bars around the city, this one seems a little more authentic, and in that is a little scarier. I didn’t see the sandwich board by the door calling out to assholes on the verge of vomiting, as that seems to be the only crowd they draw (including Mr. Hipster himself), but we swear we saw a giant beer-shaped Bat signal hovering over the place and exhaust fans blowing the smell of wieners out over 9th Ave to all the wandering drunks and stooges. [MF]
627 9th Ave.
212/974-9169
rudysbarnyc.com
