
BarFly's Review of Gypsy
Ages ago, when Portland's scenesters could be counted on two hands and space-age retro-futuristic interiors seemed thrillingly new/old, The Gypsy was the nervy pinnacle of a burgeoning northwest cool. And, to some sort of credit, we're sure - they didn't bother to change with the times. A separate dining room must, you'd imagine, be occasionally entered while the bar itself attracts the sort of folks aiming to avoid those upon the avenue that may judge stained sweat-shirts or particularly down-market bachelorette parties puking AMF fishbowls upon vintage booths. Still-lit vintage pinball game-backs ripped from the once-bar-spanning machines have been placed upon the wall as reminder of bygone days like a wall of catseye-glasses-affixed skulls on posts. I am the Gypsy, King of Kings, look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair. Sundays: Industry Night. Mondays: Gypsy Flixx Movies. Tuesdays: $5 Nachos and Drink Specials. Wednesdays: Hump Night Happy Hour. Saturdays: Martini Madness.
So far my experiences here have been best when I've just sorted myself out at the bar. If you want a spin-the-wheel-adventure of a mystery drink in a bucket of more ice than drink, try the table service. Good luck!
When the jukebox skips your song, it's not because the machine is malfunctioning, as the bartendress will tell you. She's deliberately skipping it. Sure, she'll give you the money back if you make a big stink about it, but that's not the point. Don't lie to my face and tell me that machine is acting up. Have some balls and tell me my taste sucks as you give me my 50 cents back. But to try and tell me that you're all innocent and the machine acts weird with any music pre-1990 is just bullshit. That's why you got zilch for a tip.
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Yeah, for you lame frat guys that look like Joey from friends; the next time you get all railed out on the bathroom sink of the Gypsy bring a role of toilet paper with you. Your West Hills blow has talkin powder in it, a heavy laxative which they probably didn't teach you about in your last business course. The last doosch bag Joey i picked up from that rail joint puked and shit himself in my cab -
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OK,
I've lived in the neighborhood for 4 years. When I first went to the Gypsy I tried their breakfast. Once the veggies they brought me were moldy and the second time someone forgot to take the plastic off the piece of Canadian bacon that went into my Eggs Benedict. So enough said about the food. The BIG issue with this place (and one that is the most obvious to anyone standing less than 6 ft. from the building) is the smell. There is a sick cherry bathroom cleaner smell that permeates everything in the place. It is truly awful. I can't imagine how the servers there tolerate it. Even walking by the place (not entering) you can smell it on the sidewalk. My first thought was that since they have heavy drinking jock types that maybe it was to hide the barf smell. Could this be true? I even once went into the lounge side to inhale the smell of cigarette smoke so it would mask the smell and make it more tolerable....and I don't even smoke. Pleeeeese..if anyone from this bar is reading this, kill the god awful smell or don't wonder why the place is half empty all the time. It's a nice space. Too bad it's being wasted.
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they charge like $3 or $3.50 for a pabst and frat boys fucking rule this place. go spend your money some place else.
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just so you have an idea where i'm coming from - as a server by trade, i like to think that i am fairly empathetic. after entering the EMPTY BAR on a saturday night (should have been our first clue, but it was cold outside) under the instruction to seat ourselves we waited at our table for 20 maybe 30+ minutes both smiling and making eye contact with various servers who looked down and scuttled away (do i have leprosy?) after finally deciding to take a more direct approach we asked a passing barback if someone was available to serve us. we were met with a dirty look and rude response. clearly he was too busy for us and our boozy needs. at this point i introduced myself to my friends as their server (at least someone around here knows how to do this job!) and approached the bar. after being ignored while the bartender doled out some free shots to his drunk friends i asked for a couple long beaches. now for anyone who knows, let alone a bartender, this drink is almost impossible to f**k up. clearly confused with the concept of a mixed drink,(something they advertise heavily) he picked up a menu for instruction. he didnt know what was in it so i politely told him how to make my drink, he was irritable when i requested fruit(garnish to some) and charged me more than he quoted me when taking my card for payment. needless to say, we polished off our drinks, put a quick hex on the place (maybe someone beat us too it?) and promptly crossed the street to MM's where everyone, i might add, was lovely. consider yourselves warned.
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The fact that this place is now open until 2am is very dangerous. Great drinks, great service, descent food, and a fun crowd. Can't beat it. I always enjoy making fun of the people drinking the fish bowls - especially the dudes.
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I love Gypsy. The crowd is welcoming, drinks are great, the bartenders are very friendly! Come on Thursday nights fro Karaoke it's the best!
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