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    The New Yorker

    Q: What cozy bar on a landmarked block has a fireplace for winter, a back garden for summer, dark-wood booths (“snugs”) with saloon doors for clandestine date-night canoodling in any season, and jovial Nerd Alert! trivia every Tuesday—five themed rounds (no sports; eighties pop culture favored), five questions each, plus bonus questions to earn free shots? A: Black Rabbit. Q: Who’s that mopey guy in the portrait behind the bar? A: The great-grandfather of the pub’s owner, Kent Lanier—tousled hair, penchant for the Smiths, hereditary pout—who could be found on a recent Tuesday pouring Black Rabbit lagers, finger-thawing hot toddies, picklebacks (juice by Brooklyn Brine), and gingerbacks (fresh-squeezed ginger, lemon, simple syrup). Q: “What should we name our trivia team?” (M.C.: “There’s an extra-special prize for really fucking good team names.”) A: “How about Beaver Fever? That was my Relay for Life team in ninth grade until Katie’s mom explained what beavers were. Then we changed it to Glowworms Limited.” Q: Did Beavers Unlimited best Air Bud Heart of Barkness or Blood Bath and Beyoncé either in questions answered correctly or in naming prowess? A: No. Q: Did all involved strive to follow the dictum hung on the wall: “Drink Talk Sleep Repeat Die Repeat Drink”? A: Most definitely

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