I've known Steve Trimboli, owner and proprietor of Goodbye Blue Monday, since I moved to New York. GBM is located on Broadway beneath the JMZ train, smack-dab on the Bushwick/Bed-Stuy border in Brooklyn. The store stands amidst 99 cents stores, Chinese food takeout and bodegas with bullet-proof glass. Walking into Goodbye is like walking into another world. A free-form music venue, antique store, cafe and bar, it has attracted bands from all over the world, and there is no cover for the music that plays every night—seven days a week, four bands per evening. Goodbye Blue Monday has attracted celebrities from Michael Pitt to Kevin Kline, and stands as an oasis for the starving artist contingent still too poor to afford the McKibben lofts in the "nice" part of Bushwick.

But despite being held-up at gunpoint in his own business last year, Steve continues to provide a scene for musicians, artists and outcasts. Which should come naturally to Mr. Trimboli, who owned the infamous Scrap Bar in the early 90s. Scrap Bar has been mentioned in almost every definitive book about the New York punk scene, and with good reason. Crazy shit happened there. I sat down with Steve and had him recount some of his more insane encounters during the last 30 years he's been working in the music business.

JOSSIP: So tell me about the first time you knew Scrap Bar was going to be big.

Steve: Oh, I knew it was going to be big even before we opened. I think it was the day that Allen Ginsberg came in, very excited, and he told me, "Do you know where you are?" And he told me I was at the original Village Gaslight, how Dylan's first playing gig was there.

Johnny Lydon – Johnny Rotten – I saw him come into my bar and he was abusing this 19-year old waitress early in the evening. I sort of had to threaten him, and his manager was there saying, "'ou know 'oo this is, doncha???" And I'm saying, "I don't give a fuck who you are." And he says, "I'm Johnny Rotten!" And I say, "So that means you're allowed to abuse a 19-year old girl."

Another time, (my security guy) Valentino was on one side of the bar and Joey (Ramone) was on the other side of the bar. And Joey started verbally abusing Valentino. So Val very casually, very calmly, took Joey by the hair and slammed his head into the bar. And [Joey] comes up, and goes, "And another thing!" So Valentino slams his head against the bar again. And [Joey] just bounces right back up again and we just had to throw him out.

Did Joey ever seek revenge?

Three weeks later, all my employees were on acid at this beach-themed party, and they keep saying, "Joey is behind you." … He grabs me by the neck, he's a foot taller than me so his chin was right where it's supposed to be, and I hit him just once and he went down. And to this day I thank god there was sand on the floor, because he went down flat and I was afraid he had fractured his skull, and he was out cold and they couldn't get him up.

Didn't Slash once call you out on the Howard Stern show?

Yeah, he was with this porn star named Savannah. So they started making out at the bar. I'm talking to a girl and my back is to the room, and as I'm talking I see her jaw drop; her head's shaking and she's just speechless. So I turn around, and Savannah's in the middle of the room, she's pulled Slash's pants down, and she probably sucked his dick for about five, eight seconds. She never denied it, he denied it.

So what did he go on Howard Stern and say?

(laughs) Stern's on the radio, and I'm driving to Newark airport, and Stern is talking to some guy that is wasted. And then he mentions that it's Slash, and they're talking about what happened at my bar. And he goes, "Yeah, that Scrap Bar is a great place, but that Steve Trimboli is a fucking scumbag!" And I hit the cab driver and say, "That's me! They're talking about me! I'm a scumbag!!!"

Talk about that picture of you and Joe Strummer.

He had his hair slicked just so. Everyone was in their image. We picked up Mick Jagger off the floor, and he was just totally out.

Trimboli with Joe Strummer of The Clash

Goodbye Blue Monday has been way more discreet, right? No drugs in the bathroom?

It's different.

Because of the times?

There are places where people need to be assholes. It's not like that here, that was a different time, and today people aren't so horribly image-conscious, like they were in the 80s and early 90s. I adopted a certain look because it was good for business. It's a different room (than Scrap Bar). And any place could lend itself to paparazzi, but you know what? On Bushwick and Dekalb, you can be fairly safe.

Goodbye Blue Monday is located at 1087 Broadway in Brooklyn