Rockin' in the Burg at Duff's

Went a relatively new bar in Williamsburg this last weekend. Duff's is a kind of Disneyland for hard rockers. The owner, whose facial hair features prominently on the bar's T-shirts and who notoriously drives a Hearse, decorated the spot with every last bit of odd-ball memorabilia he could find (much of it from his last association with Bellevue, the famed dive bar in Hell's Kitchen). I particularly liked the doll heads sitting in a row behind the bar, though the pin-up girls papering the benches were a nice touch, as well. There's even a poster for Duff's beer from the Simpon's on the ceiling--there's actually quite a lot of interesting stuff on the ceiling but don't let that distract you from the real live gorilla suit in the corner. What interests me most about this place is that Duff (and the girl in the gold lamé pants and halter top serving drinks from behind the bar) don't appear to lead their lives in irony, which is, of course, the pinnacle of the Williamsburg experience. But maybe Duff doesn't care if hipsters ironically wear their death metal shirts to his bar. Maybe he'll enjoy that as he chuckles from behind his dark sunglasses. Maybe that's why he put a Strokes CD along side AC/DC and Metalica in the jukebox. Who the hell cares, actually, as this bar has a lot more heart than most of the joints in the area. Right now, it a very long, cold walk to North 3rd and Kent, but I predict that when the weather's warm and the patio opens, there will be a gaggle of mussy haired Williamsburgers downing the $1 happy hour PBRs. And, I just might be there, too.

On a barely related note, I found these amazing sandals while searching for Duff's on that thing they call the internet(s). This is a must-click-through, trust me.