The Pink Monkey Cabaret

Ghetto, and mostly eveyone is cheap there, they go in with their own beer, and watch the oh so hard working strippers dance from afar which I thought was pretty rude.  Everyone in there also thinks they are better than the next guy and its just a turnoff.

In January 2010 as my ex-boyfriend and I were on our way back to Austin after visiting Elgin, we were driving by the Pink Monkey with the big, blow-up pink monkey sitting on top of the building (you can't miss it). I said, "Let's go in there! I want to Yelp about the food." His response was that he'd heard they had a nice bar build-out, so he wanted to check out the architectural integrity of the place, too.

We paid the cover, walked in past the bar (nice, but nothing to write home about) and sat down at a table near a stage. Since I'm writing this months after my visit, I can't vividly remember the stage layout of the Pink Monkey, but we were seated near a small-ish stage, and I don't recall a main stage.

The waitress came to our table, and we ordered a couple of drinks and asked for a food menu. The waitress informed us that all they had was hot wings, so we placed one order for them. Not sure if this is a Sunday-only thing (when we were there) or if they don't generally offer food or if they offer food now.

Meanwhile, I was looking around and not really impressed with the place. One very young lady came on stage as the DJ put on Miley Cyrus's "Party in the USA" and I had to wonder, did Miley (aka Disney's Hanna Montana) tell the guy in her recording studio as she was laying down tracks for this song, "Hey, let's do this one more time for the strippers!"

Our wings came, slightly cold and no side of blue cheese dressing or celery (or any accoutrements), in a cardboard boat (the kind used at concession stands for nachos) and I think I ate one and my ex had a few. When the waitress brought the wings, she said, "Oh yeah, we have pizza, too!" I was like, what kind? She said cheese. We declined her offer, since we'd already decided to leave as soon as we could pay the check. However, minutes later she walked back to the table with a paper plate and one piece of cheese pizza that looked like it had been sitting in a box since lunch because the staff had ordered pizza delivery. It wasn't even warm. I said, "No, thank you."

I have to say, when I ran the Austin Marathon a few weeks later, "Party in the USA" came on my iPod around Mile 26 by the capital, and I had to laugh about the Pink Monkey experience, which gave me the added energy to get through the finish line.