1225 Mendon Road
Cumberland, RI 02864
Providence County
Phone: (401) 333-9800
Fax: unknownWebsite: no website on fileEmail: no email on fileHours: unknown
Friendly Tap - About Us
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by Claribel Ormiston on We were in town for the weekend and wanted to check out the nightlife, so we decided to come here on a Saturday night. There were two lines when we got there, one for guest list and one for GA. Since we didn't guest list in advance, we just paid $20 for GA, plus the line was empty. Drinks were moderate price, not cheap, but not expensive. The venue itself is nice, has beautiful high ceilings and a big open stage. The atmosphere was nice, good mixed crowd, live dancers and only techno music. Has a spacious dance floor and a balcony upstairs for people watching. It got pretty packed throughout the night, so go early. I would probably come back to this place the next time I'm in town.
by Georgene Rupe on I'm giving this place 5 stars because it gives you what you expect. You see celebs, everyone there is professional, there's a lot of attractive women. Other than the people doing bottle service who are typically rude the bouncers here are extremely nice and you get served rather quickly. The DJ is really good, picks quality tracks and overall you can't really complain. If you see a bouncer out front named Dee be nice to him and you'll probably get in, always worked for me. Don't listen to the bottle service people if they say you won't get in. TIP: The parking in the Alley is $5.00 which is an awesome price for Hollywood blvd so I advise everyone to take a right into the Alley before the club and go into the $5 parking, everywhere else around there charges $10-15 to park usually.
by Andy S. on Was doing some business in the area and visiting old friends. They invited me to come party with them. The girl who bought the pills (a once close friend from high school) was on the list. "Hey long time no see, wanna see my wares? . 4 mg of klonopin, 2 norcos, a glass of tojaku kasu, and a few hits of high grade weed had me pumped to go. And yet still I cannot escape the vapidness. My feet feel heavy. Glued to the floor. Klonopin has me trapped on the dance floor like I'm in a cockroach motel. It's easy to dance like a hipster on too many muscle relaxing agents, you sway around and try to maintain balance in some neo-primativist pseudo-rave mating call. We had caught up earlier before at the liqour store. My recent suicide attempt, her hard times in Portland. Traded scars, reminisced about high school., dancing to mindless uninspired club shit. It doesn't bother you when you reach this level of benzo induced doublevision. I'm dancing with the gals, struggling like Heinrech Himmler to quickly adapt to the unspoken customs, and master the eitquette of VICE magazine meets "The L Word" interaction. I'm like that anthropologist whose seriously just there to get at some of the native women. A Paul Gaugin type you know? Chasing Amy alert. Not happening here, all these girls dance way to friendly, I felt like I was a kitten chasing a string. The red bulls keep me able to maintain some level of composure. Like a trucker hat trying to cover a meningiomas scar. I don't want to look like the fat lazy lesbo loving men wall flowers in the corner. So I dance. Make small talk. Discuss politics. Genocide in Afghanistan 96' against the Hazara people. My life as a russian-jew healing the wounds of the past through my studies. The caddy talk around me makes me want to inject a dose of reality into them at times. So many people lose themselves in this type of world. I'm not used to it, and trying to break through the maya of it all. I'm glad to see my friend comfortable with her self. She and her friends bring some personality to the complete vacuum of conciousness that is Hollywood. Piece by piece, I collected myself and attempted to get oriented and to find my companions. Some lost in bathrooms, probably for a few more years. Others schizophrenicly moving from dance floor to patio for a smoke. I made a mental note to add adderall to my list to avoid this constant conveyor belt. The Allies used ampethamines for a reason. Only pure high dosed concentration can quell the inefficiency and madness that would inevitably fuck up any chance for saving the world from Fascism. Meanwhile, after every song its another D-Day bum rush to the back patio for their rations of cancer sticks. The deluge continues. I had a good time. Sobered up at her place, then made the quick jaunt to my Venice Blvd refuge just west a few miles. Crawled into my friend Maggie's bed and escaped from the madness of Hollywood.
