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Bloggy Blog #4

The booze scene in this town is, if anything, fairly entertaining. More important, it's very cheap, compared to what I've been used to the last few years in New York. But that's not to say it's not without moments of abject misery.

JERKS.

Don't get me wrong, booze laws here aren't as downright ridiculous as some other states - hello, Utah - they're just enforced sort of differently. And by differently, I mean cops. Lots of them. All over. There's always a story about them - checkpoints, arrests, hanging around bars just waiting for some drunkard to follow and yank over within minutes. Sure, that's their job to do such. And it keeps everyone around drunkards safe. Thanks, cops! But Jesus tapdancing Christ, they are all over the place. And the stories about their conquests are even more daunting. Some folks vehemently refuse to drive downtown if they're going to drink, because they're never going to make it back home without seeing those flashing lights flare up behind them. 

That said, if you can get away with shorter commutes to watering holes, all the better. We have such a place here in what I think is the burbs. Just a hop, skip, and  jump away from awesomeness. Or more like a hop, walk down a hill, skip, walk down another hill, and jump down yet another hill away. Aside from that, it's totally close. Honest. 

The whole restaurant slash bar thing confuses me just about every time I visit one. Especially those with outside patios for the smoking crowd, and even more so when there's a little playground thing off to the side of the patio. Really? Kids can play here? Why yes, yes they can. Weird. Kids running and jumping and yelling while adults imbibe outdoors puffing on their Pall Malls. Inside, things aren't entirely better. The bar area is generally full of regular patrons, some even playing pool. But then you have the restrooms that are just like any other bar potty in the universe - just downright borderline shady. The same restrooms children use here are the same ones drunkards leave their lip sauce.

Parents, keep the wipes handy here.



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