By Dan Bookbinder

Since watching “Cheers” reruns on WPIX at a way too young age, I had a longing to indeed find a place where everyone knew my name. 

I was stoked when I saw the signs on the old Arthur Treacher’s saying they were remodeling for the new Anchor Yard Taproom! Finally, a place I could exchange quips with staff long passed closing.

I missed the grand opening because I was out of town for my stupid cousin Rebecca’s stupid wedding, so when I got the invite to my coworker Keith’s birthday party at the bar, I was thrilled. Normally, I avoid Keith since he’s a stuffy douche, but I was ready to charm the bartenders into giving me my own stool. Also, Becca’s wedding had some leftover hard seltzer’s she said I could have. I decided to pop a couple before heading to meet up with my colleagues.

I didn’t think those hard seltzers were really that hard, but somehow by the time I got to the bar I was feeling it. I wish I remembered what happened at that point.

When I got up the next afternoon, I went to the deli to get a bacon, egg, and cheese, my debit card was missing. No problem, I’d go back and have a laugh about it with the staff/new best friends.

When I got to the taproom, all eyes were on me. It wasn’t “Hey, Norm!” It was more of a marked man entering a saloon in a western. Even the babies and dogs were staring at me.

The bartender stood there, stone faced and crossed arms. I gave her my name and she replied, “Oh, I know,” and dug through the Rolodex card file to grab my card, which had a Post-it on it.

She said I’d need to see the manager before I could get my card back. I was getting real mixed signals from this place. Chilly response up front, then a backstage pass? Talk about playing hard to get.

It was a cool space, lots of tanks and stickers over everything, but when I got to the manager Josie, she was genuinely shocked I didn’t remember her or anything that happened last night. I was mortified and curious, so she offered to show me the security footage. My first Norm moment after only one visit! 

Some highlights:

• I walked in and went straight to the bar, completely ignoring Keith’s birthday party.
• I attempted to order the “USS Flagg” flight, but was turned down because it’s “Saturday night” and they were “too busy.” Even on the video, I could see how heavy and huffy my sigh was.
• I ordered two pitchers, one of the “Snake Eye-PA” and “Gung Ho Coffee Stout” and made my way to Keith’s table, unaware that the party was breaking up.
• I drank from both pitchers alone, but still initiated conversation with strangers at the surrounding tables. Topics included recommending bad movie podcasts, mentioning that I was a former “Yomega Yo-Yo Champ,” and telling the story about how I met the kid who played Dewey on “Malcolm in the Middle.”
• I mixed the two pitchers together and looked particularly pained with every sip.
• After the pitchers, I knocked into the giant Connect Four, which led to a rant about how “Bonk’s Adventure” for the Turbografx-16 was the “greatest game of the 20th century.”
• Back at the bar, I managed to get the flight request card and painstakingly filled it out, only to be reminded, “Sir, again, we don’t do flights on Saturday Nights,” “couldn’t read what I wrote down anyway” and “maybe I should have some water.”
• I made a big show to no one of rolling my eyes and chugging four cups of water from the water cooler, forgetting to shut off the spout.
• I order a pint, sat down and began to nap sitting up, taking a sip every time my head jerked back up.
• I leap out of my stool and ran to the taco truck outside demanding to know why I never received my order of fish tacos. (Note: I did not place an order and I’m allergic to seafood.)
• Went back in and immediately slipped on the puddle of water I caused. I then break into tears telling the story of how when, as a fat kid, I fell and cracked the blacktop basketball court at Camp Jewell and everyone called me “Earthquake.” My nemesis Greg Lewandowski told everyone at school.
• I attempted to order another pitcher only to be cut off, and tried to order a flight instead.
• When asked to leave, I politely said “I understand” and calmly walked to the door, but still announced, “You can’t kick me out, my mom worked on the Bob Dole Presidential campaign!”

Luckily, she saw how apologetic I was as I paid their mandatory 45% gratuity, and told me I wasn’t going to be banned. I appreciated it since it seemed like a great place, but after my gastric bypass, I vowed I would never be called Earthquake again, and since they now have a polaroid of me labeled “Earthquake” hanging on the back mirror, I’m going to have to keep drinking at home. That was not the name I wanted everybody to know.