No more tater tots deep fried in duck fat. No more drag queen bingo on Wednesdays, or chandeliers. No more Jack Daniel statue or inflatable Guinness toucans. No more “suitcases” of buffalo wings or $5 pitchers of Pint Punch. No more cheering from the balcony as a drunkard butchers Pat Benatar’s “Love Is A Battlefield” and, sadly, no more corn doggy dogs.
For $4.7 million, Nashville-based Evelyn Capital Group snagged the building and, along with it, all these aforementioned things, plus countless memories — both great and gross. By the time you read this, the Honest Pint will be gone.
Right before I walked through those double doors for the first time, I noticed a plaque that reads: “There are no strangers here, only friends we have yet to meet.”
Not to sound mushy, but The Honest Pint did feel like one of those places.
Irish pubs fancy themselves as safe havens for folks to partake in wholesome debauchery. Where you might meet the person who’s going to end up catching the garter at your wedding one day. Where the server not only knows your name, but also your mother’s maiden name. Where the bartender remembers that you’re a Pisces, and the line cook already knows you want extra Dijon Merlot Vinny for your chicken fried salad.