Two were just not enough.
It was inevitable: After the Epic Dundalk Bar Crawl Parts I and II, there would have to be a third attempt to unlock the mysteries of Dundalk's bar scene. Thus, I am pleased to unveil the Epic Dundalk Bar Crawl Part III: The Return of the Midnight Sons. It was a homecoming and a new adventure, all rolled into one.
A small group of friends and readers of my nightlife blog, Midnight Sun, set out to explore the colorful, welcoming bars in and around Dundalk. Along the way, we hit up several colorful bars, drank beer that was much, much cheaper than in Baltimore proper and had our share of misadventures.
This year's journey began right near the county line at the Glass Grill (6804 Eastern Ave., 410-633-2921, theglassgrill.com). Inside, the Glass Grill is decorated with intricate blown glass sculptures made by the neighboring McFadden Art Glass. Two of the hanging sculptures look like psychedelic sea anemones, and funky glass sculptures brighten up the bar back.
A two-man cover band was jamming on a small stage across the room from the long bar, but most of the customers were chilling on the outdoor patio. Bottles of Bud Light cost $2.25 each, which set the bar for cheap suds. Later in the evening, that bar would be lowered considerably. Outside, the Glass Grill's handful of tables and chairs were all occupied, with a couple folks playing corn hole nearby. It was a nice little nook where you could spend an evening, enjoying the warm weather.
After one round, we were off to our next destination, Mo's Seafood Factory Neighborhood Bar & Grill (7600 Eastern Ave., Dundalk, 410-288-2424, mosseafood.com). Try reading that name out loud sometime. Whew! Five big glasses of cool-but-not-freezing Samuel Adams seasonal came to $10.20. That's a few pennies more than $2 a glass for some darn good domestic beer. The bar, at the rear of the building, smelled vaguely of Old Bay, which made my mouth water. The scent followed us out back into the parking lot, where we hopped back in our cars and headed for stop No. 3: Bluefins (8247 Eastern Ave.).
Bluefins is a sprawling indoor/outdoor party zone tucked right against the water. We were there around 11:30 p.m. on a Friday, and Bluefins looked deserted. Two burly security guards greeted us at the front door, and asked for our IDs. At the bar, some domestic bottles were two-for-one, which meant our six bottles came to $11.25. Most excellent. Out back, Bluefins has several picnic tables, a couple bars and plenty of space. Neither of the bars was open the night we went, and the lack of people gave Bluefins a tired vibe. I slipped away near the edge of the grass and peered through the foliage to watch the waves lap at the stones below. Then it was time to move on.
Our final destination of the night was the Left Field Pub, (3813 North Point Blvd., 410-285-1691). Though U-shaped bars are rare in Baltimore, they're everywhere out in the county, including at the Left Field Pub. The bar was comfortably full, as was the dance floor. Drama erupted when a guy allegedly pushed someone's mother on the dance floor, and the police pulled him outside for questioning. I was standing outside on the back deck watching the police question him when one of my friends told me that Midnight Sons gang member Evan was about to Ice me.
Icing someone is the latest ingenious drinking game to hit the scene. Here's how it works: A guy (also known as a Bro) named, say, Sam, will present another guy, who we'll call Evan, with a "delicious" Smirnoff Ice.
According to Bro code, Evan must immediately drop to one knee and chug the Smirnoff Ice, regardless of the surroundings. It only works with Smirnoff Ice. But — and this is a huge "but" — if Evan already happens to have an unopened Smirnoff Ice on him, he will show it to Sam, and Sam has to drop to one knee and chug them both. That's called a "double icing." Double icings are dastardly.
Earlier in the night, I had Iced Evan. Now, he was looking for payback, but I wasn't about to let him have it. I snuck around the outside of the building to the other door and crept up to the bar. I hid behind a regular, who must have thought I was about to jump someone, until I got the bartender's attention. My heart was racing.
"Gimme a Smirnoff Ice," I muttered. It was $3 and change. I handed her $5, hid the Smirnoff Ice behind my back and strutted around the bar.
When Evan saw me, he held up his Smirnoff Ice and started laughing. I said "Oh yeah?" and whipped out my own Smirnoff Ice. Evan's screams echoed inside the Left Field Pub.
A few minutes later, exhausted from our night of debauchery, we retired to Denny's for a 2 a.m. snack, and looked back on the evening. After three Dundalk Bar Crawls, we're just getting started. I think a fourth is in order.
