20-year-olds at Carmelos, reviewed - by Ashley Bardhan
If you live in Brooklyn, you probably know Carmelo’s, the cash-only Bushwick dive that hosts NYU freshman, white guys with grillz, and, presumably, malaria.
Despite living in Carmelo’s neighborhood, I’ve never really been there. I tried to go just once before, but the tables smelled like pee, and I didn’t have cash so we had to leave. I never went back... until this weekend.
Carmelo’s ancient swirl of white Converse and teens that spit called to me between 2:23 a.m. and 3:40 a.m. on Sunday. I breathed it all in.
Let me tell you something. One thing about Carmelo’s? It is crunchy. Crunchy and maybe… pebbles? It is ripe. It has $2 drafts.
“There are so many different people here,” I said to my friend, dazed by the goth girl to my right, the Fruit of the Loom sweatshirt that said GUCCI also, coincidentally, to my right.
The vibe is three out of 10. It’s just so wet. But also crunchy, and I noticed a bit of crust as well. Like the garbage waffle a raccoon dragged out to your doorstep and then the raccoon threw up on top of it.
I had a sober weekend at my tummy’s request, but every surface at Carmelo’s is either a) gummy b) puddle or c) covered in half-full beer cans, so I got the idea. I’ll give alcohol a five out of 10 because you can have it for $2.
Even in the grim hours of Sunday morning, Carmelo’s was filled with straight men over 30 and belly button rings. I didn’t talk to anyone outside of “my group” (I am very cool), but this is who I think was there:
Arianna, 21: FIT student earning her degree in Fashion Merchandising. Her mom deposits $5,000 in her checking account every month and she has a shih tzu named Puppy Cutie Baby. She can eat a corn cob with impressive speed, but she doesn’t want to remind anyone that she’s from Montana.
Morti, 28: Super relaxed Staten Island native and Islanders enthusiast. They got gauges when they were 12. You can fit a Nathan’s hot dog through the holes.
Tomathy, 36: Tomathy, I need you to leave… NOW!
Attendance is another five out of 10. Ooh yeah, give me that crusty tasty crust. Final score rounds to a four out of 10. Wowie zowie, I gotta get me a hunk of that crust. I will never go to Carmelo’s again. Uh huh, it’s crusto time. Ugh, Tomothy, what are you still doing here?
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