I spent most of my weekend on Connecticut’s coast, bouncing around from Ocean Beach in New London, to a friend’s house in Groton, to Captain’s Cove in Bridgeport. On Friday night, after a friend’s birthday party, we headed out to a place called The Bulkley House in New London.
It made me want to shoot myself.
I think there is a restaurant in an old house, but we were at the outdoor bar, which is in some sort of weird pavilion. Despite the off-and-on rain, the place was packed with juicehead gorillas and girls whose skirts resembled the headbands I wear to the gym. The bar was crowded but as far as I could tell there were only like four beers on tap, but let’s be real… we all know how I feel about New Jersey and I would take New London’s hipsters over the GTL-ers I saw there on any day of the week.
It’s hard not to like a bar that is near the water and outdoors. Lord knows I love the Cove, but this place was…just…ugh.
One salt shaker — that’s one seaside salty dog.