A brief history of the dueling piano bar.
1915: A man stores his piano at a friend’s bar. Five whiskeys and a “Chopsticks” remix later, the piano bar is born.
1920: Another piano is placed to the side of the original piano, and then Prohibition passes. Not much happens.
1933: The two pianos are moved to face each other and whiskey is poured. The dueling piano bar is born.
And the world hasn’t been the same since.
And starting tonight in Uptown, you’ll see why: say hello to The Penguin, your new foot-tapping and Billy Joel-requesting drinking hole.
So here’s how it will go down: tonight, you’ll show up around 9pm, possibly after a stop at Nick and Sam’s Grill two doors down. You’ll step into a sea of wooden tables and blue couches facing two grand pianos and a drum set. You’ll feel an urge to request “Rocket Man.” Fight off this urge.
You’ll grab a round of Boulevard Wheats and Apple Cider Shots at the long bar. Then, you’ll claim the first person-less table you see. As you scribble down “Purple Rain” on a napkin for future requesting, three national touring piano players will be pounding the keys and banging the drums, switching off with songs or sometimes singing together, and playing everything from The Stones to The Bieber.
A twenty will get them to stop The Bieber.
1915: A man stores his piano at a friend’s bar. Five whiskeys and a “Chopsticks” remix later, the piano bar is born.
1920: Another piano is placed to the side of the original piano, and then Prohibition passes. Not much happens.
1933: The two pianos are moved to face each other and whiskey is poured. The dueling piano bar is born.
And the world hasn’t been the same since.
And starting tonight in Uptown, you’ll see why: say hello to The Penguin, your new foot-tapping and Billy Joel-requesting drinking hole.
So here’s how it will go down: tonight, you’ll show up around 9pm, possibly after a stop at Nick and Sam’s Grill two doors down. You’ll step into a sea of wooden tables and blue couches facing two grand pianos and a drum set. You’ll feel an urge to request “Rocket Man.” Fight off this urge.
You’ll grab a round of Boulevard Wheats and Apple Cider Shots at the long bar. Then, you’ll claim the first person-less table you see. As you scribble down “Purple Rain” on a napkin for future requesting, three national touring piano players will be pounding the keys and banging the drums, switching off with songs or sometimes singing together, and playing everything from The Stones to The Bieber.
A twenty will get them to stop The Bieber.
