the end of an ERA at Yaki Tuesdays

My friends and I have been longtime fans of Yakitori Boy. Every Tuesday (and sometimes Wednesday, Friday, Saturday too) our self-titled HH (happy hour, DUH) crew would meet to lament, to laugh, to smacktalk, to drink ... and to SING! Our regular weekly attendance helped us become friends with the Yaki bar staff - Cindy, Ryu, Janny... and most beloved of all - JOSE. Soon, one of our own, Syl, even joined that elite group. Ah yes, the golden days of Yaki Tuesdays.

But ALAS, it's the changing of the guard. Yakitori Boy has new management in the upstairs bar... and... I DON'T THINK I LIKE IT.

Jose was the linchpin of the Yaki Tuesday Happy Hour Fun Time. He represented everything that is RIGHT and GOOD about great bar management - friendly, totally took care of his regulars, super fair, extremely fun and always willing to jump on top of the bar and sing (shout?) a roaring rendition of GASOLINA. Just to give you an example of his awesomeness, Jose gave us a plate of "fried boneless chicken finger thingies" (aka tatsuta age) with a candle in it when we dropped by Yaki to celebrate Soopah's bday - just because he knew we loved that dish and ordered it almost every week.

C'mon... that's good. RIGHt?!

Jose left Yaki to pursue more lucrative ventures in suburban Philly, and his exit coincided with a mass exodus of those familiar faces... goodbye bartenders. Now, Syl is the only face we know - and it's a great face (we love her), but it's definitely a huge SHIFT.

Because of these changes, and the fact that we have newly discovered love for South Philly and craft beer bars all over town, we hadn't been to Yakitori Boy in quite some time. Well, we went last night and were reminded of how much has truly changed.

Upon arrival, we were asked to check any large bags/handbags we may have. This was VERY upsetting to me. I was appalled that I had to now hand someone my messenger bag purse in order to gain entry to our one-time weekly spot. I tried to protest and asked if this was necessary, to which the girls responded "oh yes, new policy. Don't worry, it's for your safety, really." * hate *  I pulled out my blackberry, my wallet, my other blackberry (shuttup) - the handful of necessities - and reluctantly handed them over to the girl at the desk. What was even more infuriating was that once I made it upstairs, I found that they were sort of haphazardly enforcing this policy - every group seemed to have at least a handful of people who had been given the right to keep their purses.

Hanging out felt different too. For our group, last night was almost like a reunion since many of us hadn't seen each other in awhile. Most of the usual players were in attendance... and it should have felt like coming home. But it didn't. To me, it felt like a shell of its former glory.

Sure, the Tuesday $1 yakitori skewers, cheap beer specials and hilariously AWFUL karaoke singing will continue to give us a reason to return to Yakitori Boy - but it will never again be the home it was to us before. I miss those days.

* moment of silence for those glory days *