If you’re an ardent hipster like myself, (or a gaming nerd of any kind) you will be most pleased to know that this upcoming Friday, June 20, BARCADE IS COMING TO THE BREWERY FOR EXACTLY ONE EVENING.
For those not familiar with Barcade, it’s exactly what it sounds like. A craft beer bar with arcade games. All the sweet, awesome, unrepentant hedonism of Funspot with more booze and no screaming, over-tired children demanding one more token to go on the animal bumper cars.
The original Barcade location in Williamsburg, Brooklyn is pretty great (aside from being in Williamsburg). We went a few months back and dumped at least 20 quarters into Bad Dudes. Enough to beat the game. Enough to get my initials on the high score screen. Except that when I went to add “POO” to the winner’s list, I accidentally exited instead. It has been my regret. My Rosebud. I want to avenge this in the worst way. I thirst for it.
Since Barcade is an awesome concept, it’s been spreading – they’ve opened other locations in Manhattan (which I believe I stumbled into while drunk but memories are fuzzy), Jersey City, and Philly.
I’m not sure exactly what games will be appearing at Friday’s Barcade Brewery Takeover aside from the article’s mention of Tapper, NBA Jam, and Ms. Pacman (AWW YISS), but according to the Brewery’s website, there will be ten games trucked in for the evening. I shall play all ten, unless a burping vortex of bros shows up and Bogarts all of them.
It’s important to mention that this is the first time Barcade has had a Brewery Takeover, and we got it first. That’s correct, for you following along at home: Gloucester, MA is weird and hipster enough for this to happen here. Not Salem, not Somerville, not Cambridge, not even Portland, but GLOUCESTER.
We’re getting on the map for Hipfrastructure. Jim warned us, people. It’s not like we didn’t know this would happen. We have freakin’ Mystery Train, which is pretty much the most hipster thing to ever hipster in this wild fish frontier, and people routinely come from all around Eastern Mass for it.
But again, I’m a fervent, unrepentant hipster. I don’t mind being called a hipster. I collect vintage beerware, own a rainbow of Chuck Taylors that have been previously worn by other people I don’t know, I have a tattoo with birds on it, and I don’t automatically punch myself in the face for being so unbelievably twee. I own my hipsterism, and for that reason, I say: HUZZAH, AND LET THE GLOUCESTER BARCADING COMMENCE.