'Outside, Obies', on Dominion Road is a bloody institution when it comes to drinking, drunkery and debauchery. It opens earlier and closes late, later than any bar I know of on Dominion. The establishment is named after the owners dog Obie, he's a cute, furry little thing, and always smells of hard liquor. The bar is as real as they come, the kind of bar Charles Bukowksi would've haunted while alive like the veteran barfly he was. If you haven't seen Bukowski's film that goes by his drinking moniker, do it, he wrote the script and it shows. The film is a masterpiece — no hyperbole. The only downside about Obies is the never ending line of regulars making a beeline for the slot machines at the back of the bar. One elderly Chinese women charged in and went straight to the addictive machines like a long lost lover. An elderly Polynesian women slowly walked in like a zombie 10 minutes later and looked like she was clocking in for one hell of a night shift, a second one. Another gentlemen wearing a fedora, sipping an rtd, withdrawed cash from the machine inside the bar and was flicking 20 dollar bills between his fingers. He didn't look like the type of man who could afford to lose too much (no one really can), but I don't think he was going to let his lack of funds hold him back much, no sir. Knowing people were going to lose money for rent and food made me feel a bit sad, sober in fact. After I finished a beer, one man came out of the pokies and it was clear he had lost money, instinctually, he slammed his hands into his pockets to rummage around, nudaa. Its a mixed bag, its unvarnished reality, its a hell of an experience. It's 'Outside, Obies' mutaf$&ker, a place where only the drunk survive.
#outsideobies #divebar #dominionrd #harddrinking #toughbar #auckland #onlythedrunksurvive
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