The Monkey Bar and Grill

It just wouldn’t be a Wednesday night if I wasn’t woken up by the sound of extremely inebriated patrons of The Money Bar & Grill screaming at each other while some of them are brawling violently in the parking lot and then dangerously stopping traffic by rolling into the busy Memphis Ave at 12:38 AM.
Last night was an especially memorable experience, as I was stolen from my dreams once again to the sound of blood-​curdling female screams and loud choppers speeding away as glass bottles were thrown at the drivers. I peeked out the window to find a man engaged in sloppy hand-​to-​hand combat with a woman in the middle of Memphis Ave while another woman was lying down in the parking lot crying. After about 10 minutes of this display of cars screeching to a halt before running over the two scrapping in the street (in other words, quite long enough to realize that no other patrons or employees of the establishment were interested in calling the police, especially since Dina’s three doors down always has an officer inside the bar and is filled with off-​duty cops and would be there in no-​time if a call was made), some onlookers from inside the bar seemed to be enjoying the scene as one repeatedly yelled, «SUCK HIS DICK» about 17 times at the top of his lungs.
Scenes like this are not at all uncommon for weeknights at The Monkey. I have never actually been in the establishment, but I do live within 300 yards of it and witness such behavior literally on a weekly basis. On a good night, you are only subjected to screaming threats of violence from over-​served patrons and the sound of ten or so motorcycles revving their engines for a while before speeding off, the noise of which is akin to trying to sleep next to a very large scale civil war reenactment for 25 minutes at a time. I could agree to add a star to this review for every week they go without a loud, violent scene similar to this and I’d never have to worry about updating it.
If you have children, are thinking of having children, know anyone that has children, or if you were ever a child, do not come anywhere near this classless venue of terrifying lawless behavior. If there was a god, the city would knock this place down and plant a tree or something. But clearly, The Monkey Bar & Grill proves that there is no such entity.

Its not a bad place. The bartenders were nice, and the drinks are very cheap. It can be dry at times. But when I go anywhere me and my friends are the life of the party. And On sat. A Dj comes in and play some nice tunes, but the area to dance is limited.

Here’s my issue.
Your bar on St. Patrick’s day is pretty dead. We sit at a table for 10 minutes with no service. Only after I ask for service am I told I have to come to the bar and order. I do, and you bring food out, no silver wear no napkins, I have to bring out paper towels from the bathroom. I ask for ketchup and you bring me a caddy with an empty ketchup bottle.
As an establishment it lacks management. Badly. The buffalo chicken dip has a measly portion of chicken that you can tell comes from canned chicken and a stupid amount of «house made» tortilla chips. Not worth the money. And extremely sad when half your menu is crossed out with sharpie.
There’s a reason why Dinas rules Memphis. I’m honestly surprised this place is still open

No bike rack. Won’t let you bring your bike inside, even when there are only 3 people there. Bar mistress (with nothing to do because 3 customers) yells at you from across the bar. Does not politely come over and apologize. Doesn’t say «only one but then you have to go». Yells at you. Only have Budweiser. For a neighborhood bar they are working really hard to keep the neighborhood out. Every street in this part if town has a dedicated bike lane full of bikers. Learn who your clients are if you’re going to run a neighborhood bar.

Cheap drinks good food !!!

Well I really only popped in to see what all the Hub-​bub was (bub…We all should strive to quote Bugs Bunny or any Looney Tunes character at least once a day, just sayin’…)
Anyway I don’t remember much as the two Henekens went down pretty fast, followed by a couple shots of Yaeger… I KNOW better mind you but I am literally 2 BLOCKS from my house so thinking to self… What could happen just walking home…
Mr. Blabbermouth at the bar has to tell EVERYONE about his inordinate amount of unused fireworks in his living room as he roadtripped for the 4^th of July…
Long story short I wake up with a MONSTER headache (again) and charr all over my fingertips… Front and rear doors wide open and ripped apart boxes of what to be spent fireworks cartons…
Where the hell were the cops??? Who cares PHEW!!!