Bonny's Hideaway: Charleston — A Girl's Guide to Drinking Alone

*I went back in the daylight to snap this pic*

549 King St, Cannonborough, Charleston SC

The Place: An Irish-Caribbean cocktail bar that feels like a club I am officially too old for.

The Time: Friday July 8, 10pm. I’m in Charleston for my cousin’s wedding (yet another wedding! Yet another congratulations, this time to Clara and Andrew!). After the rehearsal dinner, I decide to check out one of Charleston’s bars just up the street from the hotel where my mom and I are staying. Mom’s not much of a cocktail connoisseur so I leave her at the hotel and head up King Street.

The Vibe: Charleston is a big wedding and bachelorette party destination and at 10pm on a Friday, the streets are filled with young, drunk revelers. As I was heading out, my mom gave me the obligatory “be careful walking alone” warning, but she really doesn’t have to worry because I am just glomming onto the backs of different hordes of guys in pastel polo shirts and ladies in matching “I’m with the Bride” tees. (I overhear one bridesmaid say to her friend, “I’m not drunk, I just can’t feel feet.”) Every bar has a bouncer outside. I chose Bonny’s Hideaway in advance because of its cool-sounding Irish-Caribbean theme. When I arrive, I find that it is huge and LOUD and not anything like I had expected (let’s say it’s not much of a “hideaway”). I think there’s a dance floor in the back and maybe a DJ but I don’t venture over there. Instead I take a seat at the corner of the long wooden bar. There seems to be nothing Irish about this place whatsoever. The main color of the space is teal (at least I think it’s teal? It’s so dark, what is color when you can’t see shit). There’s a big mural of a pirate ship, barrels everywhere, rattan lamps, leaf-shaped things, so they’re definitely trying and maybe during the week it actually feels like a tropical cocktail bar but right now it just comes across as a club that slapped on a Halloween costume. It’s kind of empty for how deafening the music is, but it slowly begins to fill with frat bros and sorority girls. Right next to me is an older couple, not old but they’re older than me so that makes them ancient to everyone else, probably. They’re definitely tourists, and the wife keeps singing along to the pop music in the direction of her disinterested husband, who just sits back in his chair with his arms crossed. If the person I identify with most here is THAT guy, there’s a problem.

The Bartender: A young guy with long hair wearing a hat and a shirt with pineapples on it. On the one hand, I would love to talk to him about what it’s like bartending in Charleston. But on the other hand, I kind of just want to be left alone and isn’t this the eternal dilemma of being human? In any case, it’s too loud to even TRY to talk to him so I don’t.

The Drank: The cocktail menu is part of the reason I wanted to come here–it looks playful and full of innovative drinks. I order the Jungle Bird, a classic tropical cocktail that’s a mix of rum, Campari, pineapple and lime. Their twist on it has “buttered popcorn infused blackstrap rum” and gingerbread in addition to the other ingredients. All I taste is gingerbread which is wintery and I’m sweating my ass off in the South in July. Nothing makes sense.

Was I Hit On?: No, I actually have to leave without finishing my drink because the noise is giving me a headache. (WHO AM I, I’ve become THAT person, omg.) As I’m walking back to the hotel, I pass this van that’s serving booze pops – ice pops that have alcohol in them. Music is blasting, a multi-colored disco ball lamp is whirring and it’s clearly being manned by a high twenty-year-old. Two women are walking away with their pops, and one says to the other, “if this is bad, I’m gonna be pissed.” GIRL. What about this situation makes you think it’s gonna be good!?

Should You Drink Here Alone?: Definitely not on a Friday night. Or at all? I feel like such a grinch but Bonny’s Hideaway, or any of the other nightclubby bars on King Street in Charleston, just isn’t for me. If you do go and you’re over the age of 30, bring earplugs. You’re welcome.

* UPDATE * Bonny’s Hideaway is now closed