I asked the bartender, "So, do you not do them to-go anymore?" and he shook his head in what seemed to be a forlorn way — though I could just be projecting — and said, "No, can't do. There was some trouble." I said, "Oh, with cops?" and he nodded his head. It was very loud in there, and because I had already drank half a bottle of Jameson at the movies, I'm not all that clear on what exactly he meant.
BlackBook film critic Eddie Mullins, who was also refused a go-cup when he begged for one two weeks ago, reflects on the glory days:
I've been getting them to go since '93. Years and years ago my friends had a party and we were like, "We want to get some margaritas delivered." They were like, "We don't do that." And we said, "Well, we want 30 of them." They were like, "Okay, what's your address?"
If you're thinking you'll just go to the place down the block that has also served them para llevar, know that we were denied there also. Between this and Mehanata's struggle to get a liquor license, things are looking very grim for the Lower Eastpacking District.
* Grub Street is not implying that the frozen margaritas contain actual crack. The mystery tequila, however, might as well be crack.