Occasionally I’ll be enamored with a bar so much that I’ll plug it, shamelessly.
For instance, the dynamic duo of Nimeta Bar and Shooters: An absolutely pivotal stop for any foreigner looking for good food, good sights and Premier League.
Alright, I have to admit something — I literally stumbled upon Nimeta Pub (which translated is the Pub with No Name). I already knew about the legend of Shooters. Truth is, they are right next to one another, but I just came across both. See, my first day in Tallinn, I decided to go out without a map and just purposely get lost. It is my way of truly finding my way around a city. Because if I can get back, I’ve won.
So I didn’t have Shooters’ address on me. And that is like a night place anyway. So I get the hunger pangs and I start looking around for a place to grab grub. I didn’t want fast food — I wanted pub fare. So I walk around, peruse menus and whatnot… and then I do a very scientific decision-making thing. I see a super hot little tan, black-haired girl putting chairs outside for business. And suddenly I’m assured that this place has good food.
I walk in, sight unseen, and check out the bartender (also hot) and ask for a menu. It has food. I’m hanging out here because it is me and an old guy, and two hot servers. I’m liking my chances.
But I was super hungry too. So I order three things: Russian meat dumplings, Hawaiian Chicken sandwich and fish and chips. Judging by the relatively inexpensive prices I think that the offerings are small. The hot tan black haired girl is taking my order. She has crystal blue eyes, Siberian Husky-esque. She asks me if I’m sure, I say (truthfully) that I haven’t eaten all day and that I’ve been up for awhile because of the flight. She laughs and then disappears. Five minutes later the Russian meat dumplings come out. A bowl of them. I’m not deterred. I crush them because they are delicious.
Then its like the bartering trade game with the hot girl. The second I finish the last one, Siberian Husky gives me Hawaiian Chicken Sandwiches. Plural. Two of them. Stuffed to the gills with chicken and Hawai’i. I’m like, alright, I can do this. But that is one more sandwich then I was expecting. It was also cut in diagonal halves, making it four sandwiches, which is just positively cruel on the psyche. I polish off the first, and then the second. Third… fourth. I basically want to die at this point.
But like a gangster, she wisks them away and replaces with the fish and chips. Proper chips too: steakhouse chips. “Jesus, I’m in trouble. And I’m going to need a pint too.”
She’s somewhat impressed as I just go right in for the kill. She comes back with the pint and I ask her to sit down. She does and I ask about the town and what to do and she’s like “Shooters, right next door, that’s all you need to know. We go there after work.”
So I get the courage to ask when that is. She’s like well 5 for me today, but I’ll be there tonight at 11. I ask if it’s cool to tag along. She then gives me her number. I tell her that I don’t have a cell with me. Then she’s like, “Well then I guess just come by tonight at 11 pm.”
Then I get the bill and she’s charged me, apparently, full price, but it is less then 12 Euros. I just ate my weight in food. I’m still working on my FNC, but I pay 20 Euros and she comes back with change. I’m like, “No, no, that’s for you.” She’s apparently astonished. She tells me, matter-of-factly, “I’m getting you drunk tonight, on your money.”
Turns out she was right… because when we got to Shooters, she bought my first round. Which consisted of 5 shots for 5 Euro. Apparently the rule at Shooters is to order five shots at a time. That could kill some women in the United States. That’s standard operating procedure in Estonia. The next round is my treat. So now we’re 10 shots in. And I’m feeling like a sloppy face.
We have a cheap make-out session in the establishment and she asks how long I’ll be in town. Since alcohol is truth serum, I tell her the truth. “Not long enough, but if you come to see me again, maybe I’ll reconsider.”
Obviously she was talking sex, and I was sad. Because that would have been fun.
Anyway, after another make-out session outside, we go our separate ways.
I wake up the next morning and realize that my Super Bowl is on — Liverpool v. Manchester United. Fortunately, you can Google “Soccer Bars” and you’ll find any place that shows soccer in any city in the world. I search Tallinn. Search returns: 1 bar.
So I go. It is filled with Liverpool-laden yobbos and some Manc fans. It is pretty packed and I only notice two seats available. I walk up to the bar and ask the girl sitting there. She’s blonde and sitting next to a guy that is probably 45-50 years old. I saw her hair, that’s all. I ask, “Are these taken?”
She turns to answer, and it is Victoria Silvstedt’s sister. Not biologically, but she’s this stunning blue-eyed blonde twin of Victoria. Her name, out of dumb luck is Victoria. It’s not Silvstedt though. This I know. And her “boyfriend” is clearly 15-20 years older than her. We get to drinking and talking and I learn that she’s a Liverpool fan and he’s a Manchester fan. They are from Stockholm and just visiting for the weekend (they do it quite a bit). I tell her that I’m a Liverpool fan, and suddenly she’s talking to me and not her boyfriend. This goes on for the first half and into the second. Her boyfriend decides he needs a smoke and heads outside.
Suddenly Charlie Adam is felled by Rio Ferdinand (apparently by being blown on, since he didn’t touch him). I look at her and say, “Steven Gerrard is going to score on this free kick. I guarantee it.”
In walks her boyfriend, who promptly sits down. Manchester United is still arguing the call. I look at her and say, famously, “Watch, ready…1-0.”
Gerrard steps up, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!! GOALLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!
And suddenly I have a blonde Swedish babe reenacting the scene from that movie with that guy from that other movie and that girl from the Lindsay Lohan movie and they are doing the kiss thing in the rain but she doesn’t remember it at the end and needs to be reminded. Yeah, that movie. The chick flick anthem. It is that scene, only she’s straddling me on a chair. Right in front of her boyfriend. Full on straddle, hug, kiss on the lips. If I didn’t get kissed, I would have said it was rape. And normally rape isn’t cool. But this rape was awesome.
Then I remembered the boyfriend. I looked over and apologized. Then she’s like “Don’t you apologize, I kissed you. Blame him, he’s a Manchester fan. Sucks to be him, right!?”
Yes. But not me. It’s awesome to be me.
Low and behold, Man U tied the game and it ended 1-1, causing the fat guy to scream at the telly, say FOOKIN ELL about 40 times and cry. Which was also awesome. And I saw Siberian Husky again. But, sadly, my perseverance was not rewarded. Oh well.
To learn more about Nimeta — http://www.nimeta.ee
To learn more about Shooters — http:www.shooters.ee
Both have Facebook pages, also. The dynamic duo is really the only spot you need to hit up in Tallinn. It is impossible not to have fun there, and drink cheaply. And make-out cheaperly.