Even the Trum Tavern has some rules

I’m a city-dweller by nature, but a lot of my friends choose to live in the sticks. So this past weekend I took a journey by bus to Milford Square in Upper Bucks County, Pennsylvania. Two of my best buddies, Scott and Isaac, just bought houses in this town, so I figured I had to see what all the fuss is about. With my friend E.J. playing chauffer, we hit up the best and brightest drinking spots the vicinity had to offer.

First, we stopped in at McCoole’s in Quakertown, not a dive, but more like a working man’s bar with a lot of polish. Met some guy called John Lennon while gassing $2.75 Yuengling pints. Decent enough place to hang.

Then we moseyed over to The Pub, which is located next to a Friendly’s in a strip mall in Milford Square. The lager was cheap and the patrons were derelict. I put “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” by the Rolling Stones on the jukebox, while E.J. and I played Photo Hunt. Some hillbilly guy sitting across the bar then leaned towards me and said “the Bee-a-tles” in a horrible attempt at a Northern English accent. Then he started rambling incessantly to me about “Casualties of War,” a bad 80’s Vietnam movie starring Sean Penn and Michael J. Fox.

Next, we headed back to Quakertown to stop at Hobo’s. This name turned out to be very literal as the whole place was decorated with paintings and frosted glass depictions of hobos and tramps with red noses standing on railroad tracks. E.J. astutely dubbed it “Hobo Art.” The patrons seemed to consist primarily of lonely Philadelphia Flyers fans and middle-aged divorcees drinking alone. I truly hated this place and can’t imagine why anyone would drink there a second time. Nothing depressing about sipping at a beer with 50 pictures of homeless winos surrounding you!

The mighty Trum Tavern patrons

The Iron Liver and Lungs Posse

Trum Tavern, was next on the list to check out. This place had a bit of a bad reputation in the area as being a den of criminals and bikers. I didn’t find this to be true, but there were definitely a few rough characters in there who could potentially shank you if you said the wrong thing. Let’s just say I got a few cock-eyed looks from the regulars. The drinks were expectedly cheap - beer between $2 and $3, and $1 PBR’s. We played a few rounds of darts and smoked up a storm.

Last stop was Casey’s in Quakertown, which was full of old men. It was really boring until I rocked a little Exile on Main Street on the jukebox. We downed a $7 pitcher of Yuengling and headed over to Isaac’s house to down shots of Eagle Rare and pass out.