Lots of places like this have sprung up in Budapest since the wall came down in '89, and they are all pretty cool. Despite the proliferation of them, they are still rarities and much appreciated.
One thing that American urban sophisticates have to appreciate is that it takes A LOT to get a Hungarian to feel ironic about ANYTHING. The folks behind Marxim aren't the first people here to open up a hole in the wall, throw some rickety old furniture inside, paint grafitti and retro commie slogans on all the surfaces and call it a club/pub/restaurant... but it's refreshing when compared to the sterile bars and eateries that spring up in Pest weekly.
To most of the night owls in this city, nothing quite makes a night out on the town like ordering drinks from a backlit bar shelf full of flavored vodkas, overpaying for them, toting them back to a futuristic Scandinavian piece of furniture sitting 10 centimeters high and sucking them down through your knees as you scream to your date over 135db of bad Croatian techno.
So when I see a place like this here - an establishment that would seem familiar if not downright ordinary if found in a hipster neighborhood in a large American city - I instantly have a high regard for the proprietor.
Marxim has a menu of drinks, pizzas, the usual suspects on tap and a mural of V. I. Lenin in his Calvin Kleins. Gets wild here on weekends, or whenever there's a big mob at a nearby hostel on a Tuesday night looking to get out of the common area and away from that creepy looking Swedish guy who keeps trying to tag on.
I took a couple of chicks there the other night, with predictable results...
A little Dreher Bock ...
... a little grooving to Yonderboi on the house sound system ...
... a little emboldened by the drink and the music, one appears as a witness in an impromptu show trial and accuses the other of subversive activities against the party ...
... but the party cannot be stopped!
