From a promoter/booker-of-underground-shows perspective, Cusumano's Pizza is almost too damn good to be true. With its location in Maplewood on Manchester Avenue — roughly fifteen minutes from nearly anywhere in town — it's easy to convince even the most steadfast of stay-at-home couch potatoes to show up. Rental of the hall is free, putting overhead costs near zero and ensuring that more money ends up in the bands' pockets at the end of the night. And the drink specials. Oh, the drink specials. Sure, three-dollar pitchers are exciting, but more so is the fact that any party that brings in 150 people earns itself a free keg, on the house. Sounds too dangerous? Don't worry, Cusumano's five-dollar, fourteen-inch pizzas will soak up all that booze, leaving patrons fat, drunk and happy to spend all that saved money on the T-shirts and records the touring bands have for sale. All in all, the hedonism that Cusumano's Pizza is willing to afford its patrons is the surest sign we've seen yet that the Mayan calendar apocalypse may indeed be upon us. It would be best to get to Maplewood and live it up while you still can.
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