The bar scene

Beer – Murphy’s Law

Have a beer. I don’t care which one. I guess that’s the easy part.

Where should I drink said beer? Ok, everyone’s got their favorite. Maybe it’s a dive bar. Maybe it’s a place right around the corner. Maybe even a beer-snob bar. Or perhaps it’s the dreaded sports bar. Jon Taffer of Bar Rescue states, “People who have no idea how to run a bar open sports bars.” And for the most part, it’s true. Clueless owners, shitty service, bar managers who become attention whores by using a microphone, sirens, bells, yeah, you get the picture. That’s why sports bars fail more often than any other type of bar. They go out to attract one type of crowd, fail at keeping them, then go after another. Usually what they end up with are frat-boys and similar douchebags. The regulars that supported them stop going.

Notice I didn’t mention the “club.” Clubs are the lowest of the low. Sometimes a bar starts out as a club, some just end up that way. While I am not a fan of hip-hop, I understand why these places have to exist. If they didn’t, these people would make their way into other bars. It’s kind of like knocking down a building infested with roaches – all they do is scatter. Sports bars in their dying days usually become clubs. They’re easy to spot; if you see a DJ more than one night a week, if you see mostly mixed drinks in the hands of the patrons, if the prices spike because they need to hire security… yeah, it’s time to find a new place to hang out.

All of this typing has made me thirsty. I need a beer.

 

 

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