On a Sunday spring night, the Monkey Pub is like the solace the ground above affords following an April shower. After all the stresses of work and studying and a weekend spent blowing off steam have soaked the earth around them, up come the creatures that the area is home to, in search of a breath of fresh air before diving back into the depths of responsibility. Awkward University students slowly trickle in, gathering loosely around round wooden tables and in intimate two-person booths. Some shoot pool while others eagerly peruse the fat white binders filled with laminated pages of karaoke selections and begin to let the social lubricants take hold. College-logo sweats and ballcaps seem just as at home here as chains and a triple Mohawk, much like the Donnas poster plastered on the ceiling fits between two Cramps posters. Empty kegs hang from chains on the ceiling, a blatant reminder of the neighborhood (especially the one with the bubbly prosthetic rear end attached, seemingly a physical manifestation of what lies heavy on the minds of male coeds at any given moment). The karaoke selections are as varied as the crowd, from Slick Rick lyrics sung over a Beastie Boys beat to the irony-heavy theme song from Growing Pains. Slices of cheese pizza sweat under hot lamps in a glass case towards the front, much like the jovially robust half of the duetting couple belting out “Escape (the Pina Colada Song)” from the floor stage. In an area populated with clearly relegated gathering places for the likes of microbrew-guzzling grad student/professors and muffin tops wobbling over stilettos, the Monkey Pub gives the rest somewhere to just be.