In this exclusive video from Gothamist, bartenders share their craziest barf stories. For some reason, barf stories are always good stories. I’ve never heard a bad barf story. As long as barfing makes a cameo, the story automatically gets a barf boost. It’s like the Colbert Bump. It can make a forgettable movie into a memorable one – just refer to these lists: 10 Greatest Puke Scenes in Movies | Most Disgusting Vomit Scenes in Movies | Best Projectile Vomiting Scenes in Movies
First up, Claire Bertin-Lang reminisces about the time she tried to help a “Freddy 40 Hands” player out of his “40 hands” at The Village Pourhouse by Columbia University on “Student Night” and got sprayed.
First of all, “Freddy 40 Hands”? It’s like a game of operator. That’s how people got so damn famous back in the day, oral legend passed down from generation to generation kept getting more and more out of control. It’s “Edward Fortyhands” as in “Edward Scissorhands” with 40 ounce bottles of malt liquor (or beer if you’re lightweight) taped to your hands. Can’t take the taped bottles off your hands until you finish.
“Freddy Fortyhands” probably came to be when a guy who knew of Edward Fortyhands was trying to introduce the game to a group of people and none of those people had ever seen the movie. Like, 1 person was probably like “You mean, like Edward Scissorhands” and everyone probably was like, “Shut up, NERD!”
Anyway, the $3 tip from the kid after it’s all said and spun is so Student Night, it squirts. The bar’s response is like The Wolf from Pulp Fiction: Febreze the area and get a new shirt, sweetheart.
Up next, Rachel Wiznitzer (whoa, is that like a smarter version of the Howitzer?), currently a bartender at Seamstress, talks about a little girl who starts swaying then launches a vom-bomb all over the bar top. I’ll tell you it’s the little ones that produce the most ‘gurge (read: regurgitation).
Gotta love the boyfriend who doesn’t touch or help. My guess is this is the first time he’s ever seen his petite mate fill 5 or so glasses with her chunky molasses. I’ve only filled 1 glass with stomach soup, it was after a wedding in 2006 (?) at a bar and I believe it was the savory aroma from a shot of whiskey that got me glurping. Luckily, I was able to hold it ’til I found a big glass mug in the corner. So, that was the only time into a glass, NOT the only time I spewed in my own mouth and held it.
The second time I contained a gusher was Valentine’s Day 2010. It was the Winter Olympics, me and the roomie had been playing beer pong all day at a buddy’s place in Hoboken (the same place where Zak DeOssie and Jonathan Goff lived), we finally decided to head out to a bar. We went to 10th and Willow, I just had a shot of tequila, Ralph’d, swallowed, and not 2 minutes later was making out with a pretty red-headed lass.
Third, we have Danny Neff (what’s up, Neff! What up, CUZ), a bartender at Holiday Cocktail Lounge, who took matters into his own fortyhands by making a barricade with his arms to keep the stew confined. That’s some sacrificial lamb type ‘ish.
Follow Gothamist reporter Lauren Evans on Twitter
Follow Gothamist cameraman and editor Jeff Seal on Twitter