The Turkey’s Nest – Williamsburg, Brooklyn (N 12th St & Bedford Ave)
Have you ever been to North Brooklyn? Do you have a friend there? Have you ever passed through? Have you spent even ten minutes in McCarren Park? Then you’ve probably passed The Turkey’s Nest. You might have even been inside to order a conveniently styrofoam-cupped beer or margarita (get the one with absinth) for quenching your thirst in the nearby park. But have you ever actually hung out there? I mean, like, have you ever actually gone to The Turkey’s Nest to tie one on and remind yourself that while life is fleeting, sometimes it’s best not to remember parts of it for your own longterm psychological well-being? I bet you haven’t.
In stark contrast to newer Williamsburg’s hip bars with their bullshit dim lights and fancy drinks and bartenders who will actually talk to you, The Turkey’s Nest is a grim, unwelcoming reminder of the neighborhood’s past and I love it. I don’t like it at all, but I love it. If you’re looking for a place to sit with the lights on, drinking yourself into oblivion, not talking to anyone, and maybe watching sports, this place is your place. If you want to play pool with an aggressive dude and his weird mute girlfriend on what might be the neighborhood’s shittiest, smallest, most fucked up pool table, this is your place. If you want to get your drink on without the slightest bit of pretense that what you’re doing is anything but slow suicide (come on, we’ve all been there), this is your place.
You’ll never take a date to The Turkey’s Nest. You might go there with a girl—or guy if that’s your thing—and you might have been on a date beforehand, but crossing the threshold into the darkened world that is The Turkey’s Nest is the termination of your date. You might not even talk to each other again. That’s the sort of place The Turkey’s Nest is. It’s a destroyer of dreams, a breaker of homes, a shatterer of lives. You want a Super Big Gulp sized Budweiser? Sure you do. You want 3 shots of Jäger in a plastic cup? You can have that too. You want a fancy drink and a smile? Get the fuck out, asshole. Go to some trendy bitch bar.
I love The Turkey’s Nest and I hate The Turkey’s Nest. It is varsity level drinking at its worst and it serves a valuable role in an increasingly safe and boring neighborhood. When you are looking for a place where you will receive absolutely no bullshit, this is your place. Welcome, but you aren’t my friend. Get a drink and shut the fuck up.
If you are moved by this post to visit The Turkey’s Nest, please call 1-800-273-TALK (8255). Thanks.
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