Greetings and Salutations,
You know, if the weather was organized into a playlist throughout the year, Milwaukee basically clicked shuffle this week and cannot make up its mind. Snow to rain, sub-zero temperatures to mid-40’s it’s been one heck of a ride! Yet, through it all there has always been one guarantee: Thursday nights in Milwaukee are alive and electric with Welcome to Thursdays. This week we travel to Brass Monkey, an establishment that has you covered on all ends to make sure you have a good night. Thursday night is burger night, where you can pick up a 1/3 lb. burger for less than $5! Assuming you need to wash down that burger, Brass Monkey has you covered again with an awesome beer and cocktail collection. Top all that off with a ridiculously friendly staff and you have yourself one fantastic Thursdays spot. Cheers to seeing all of you this Thursday at the Brass Monkey!
After a rousing night at Scaffidi’s last week, winter’s bite had thrown me into a trance. I stared up at a cold moon wondering why I was put into this predicament. The sound of dress shoes clacking below kept me cautiously alert while I laid upon a Milwaukee rooftop waiting, waiting for the sound of silence. I had begun my trek to the Brass Monkey, only to have multiple men in suits tailing me the entire way. These men seemed ruthless, they never slept and never stopped hunting me. Why was it so important? What is the Third Cellar? These are the questions that perplexed me.
At some point, I was slowly hampered by the feeling of safety and a slight comfort overtook me. This was a mistake, as I realized that I forgot to silence my phone. Lo and behold who would call me but the Curd’s own Joe Powell, asking for yet another article on Old Milwaukee. He wanted me to write a short essay on the effects Old Milwaukee would have on America’s political state. Sounds of Hoobastank’s “The Reason” echoed throughout Milwaukee’s streets as my phone rang, and with that very call every Suit was pin-pointed on my location. Suddenly, the Suits began piling into the building. Time was running short and I had nowhere to run.
Now, you are probably thinking to yourself that I am a bit out of luck; but what I am about to tell you is 100% true and factual (Joe’s Note: This can’t be verified.). Not knowing what to do, I simply thought that the jig was up, the news was out, and they finally found me. But suddenly, a massive pint of Old Milwaukee in the sky appeared – driven by the one and only Will Farrell!
He floated towards the building shouting my name. As he touched down, the rooftop door was kicked open by the Suits. I quickly leapt into the basket and we took off. Will Farrell looked at me, and then to the horizon and simply said, “We must get you to the Brass Monkey.” We quickly touched down and Will shook my hand saying, “finish this.” He then rose back into the heavens and I turned my gaze upon the Brass Monkey ready to reveal the truth.
As I approached the door, I noticed a very eerie looking brass monkey face with his mouth open, appearing like something was to be placed inside his mouth. Without any hesitation I placed my golden banana from the owner of Scaffidi’s into the monkey’s mouth, and the its eyes instantly shot out with a blinding light. The mouth shut on the banana and suddenly, the door that seemed to enter the bar opened to a different place.
I walked through and found myself floating in the clouds. A hand reached out, I grabbed it and was pulled into cloud. I found myself staring face to face with our fallen brother, Harambe the gorilla. He spoke in an immense deep voice that had a melodious touch, “You have come far my friend, you have seen many things, eluded many dangers, and now I come to you at the turn of the tide.” I nodded in agreement and asked him where the Third Cellar truly was. He simply extended his arm and pointed to my heart. “The Third Cellar lies in all who believe in keeping your glass filled and spirits high one Thursday at a time.” Confused, I said, “that’s the Welcome to Thursdays slogan…” He smiled, reached into a cloud and pulled out two Old Milwaukees. I drank a cold one with my friend Harambe on that day, and I truly lived.
While sharing our heavenly drinks, Harambe explained that the Suits who wore Allen Edmonds shoes were spies of the evil conglomerate Budweiser. They were sent to Milwaukee to stop the good word of Welcome to Thursdays. Their lair lie right under our nose – under the very Allen Edmonds billboard I pondered over when this tale began. It turns out that the can in Scaffidi’s that scared the Suits away was actually Old Milwaukee. You see a single can of hopes and dreams with an infinite gaze can defeat all evil; even the Suits cannot stand up to the power of Old Milwaukee. I took one final sip of my beer, gave Harambe a hug and walked back through the magical gateway. I walked home, sat at my desk, looked up at that billboard and simply said “Not today Allen Edmonds, not any day Budweiser” and began writing this very tale.
Cheers my friends!
Your Co-Founder and Friend,
*Keeping your glass filled and spirits high one Thursday at a time, this is Welcome to Thursdays: a local social group determined to make your Thursdays more fun. Each Wednesday, The Squeaky Curd features a (generally) fictitious story of a Milwaukee County bar that we gather at on Thursday evening. Join us this Thursday, January 25, 2018 at Brass Monkey, 11904 W Greenfield Ave (West Allis), at 7:30pm.*