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The first thing I though
was, "Shouldn't the beers be cheaper in this dump?" Seriously,
if you're going to charge five bucks for a stinkin' beer, at least
give us some couches, hot waitresses and a happy ending. I mean, if
you're place is going to be old school, you should charge old schoolish
prices. Now before you get the wrong idea, I don't hate this place.
The crowd is not hip. To the contrary, the crowd is so unhip that
it almost bends back on itself and makes the place hip. It's like
those lame trucker hats that every fool and his cousin is wearing--it's
IRONIC. You know, cool people hanging out in uncool places. Whatever
your feeling on the whole thing, the P&G crowd couldn't be more
dull if you lobotomized a room full of mutes (or speaking impaired,
or whatever.) There was one chatty, old drunk who insisted on telling
the bartender about how to pick a horse. Best I could tell, you just
stare at the betting sheet long enough and one of them jumps out at
you like a pedestrian looking for an insurance settlement. While sort
of deco on the outside, the inside reminds me of a bad, Long Island
50's kitchen or something. I believe there may even be some fake wood
paneling somewhere--although this might just be a phantom memory of
some other dive I wanted to get the hell out of, and fast. Anyhow,
we don't want to sour you on what is a perfectly serviceable bar,
but we can hardly recommend it to anyone under the age of 45 or with
a penchant for falling asleep in his soup. [MF]
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