You Bitch!
26th of May, 2019

About

Rube

An Advanced and Magical Blogger at an Unbelievable Price!

Latest Comments

Sturm

Drang

Broodlings

G'scheits - German Blogging

Archives

2003
Mar
2003
Apr May Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
2004
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun
Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
2005
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun
Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
2006
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun
Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
2007
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
2008
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun
Jul Sep Oct Nov Dec
2009
Jan Feb Apr May Jul
2010
Jan Feb Mar Apr Jun
Sep Nov
2011
Jan Oct
2012
Feb Jul Sep
2013
Jan Apr
2014
Mar
2015
Jun
Nov Dec
2016
Jul

Live-blogging while getting shit on


[22:20]

I’m giving the New Worst Bar in the World a second chance tonight. For about the eighth time now, I guess. These guys are the worst of the worst. They’re even worse than I remembered, and that was bad enough. I’ve been sitting here now for about 10 minutes, and they haven’t even acknowledged my presence. There’s 4 chicks behind the bar, just a-wiping them counters, a-polishing them glasses, and a-wasting my fucking time. I guess I keep coming back out of morbid curiosity, of the literal kind. I’ve got to see how long it takes for this place to die off.


Atrocious service. There’s an entire floor of guests here where I’m sitting, and we all came in about the same time. Probably about 10 people. There’s no way they could’ve missed us, and anyway, I’m sitting on the railing, with my sizeable noggin in plain view of God and everybody. Let’s watch...


[22:30]

Welp, still high and dry here. The staff have, in the meantime, made a perfunctory round of the lower floor down there. They didn’t bother to put out their cigarettes to do it though, just left them burning in the ashtrays. Never a good sign. I’ll light a cigarette and see what happens.


[22:35]

Cigarette’s out. Somebody’s coming up the stairs, oh wait! She’s got a notepad with her! She’s either a waitress or a reporter, and either one would suit my purposes at this point. Meanwhile, more customers are grousing around and looking nervously over their shoulders, the silence of the taps a deafening presence in the room. My hatred hangs over this place like a cloud. Thalia Bar and Grill, I am your own personal Simon Wiesenthal, you worthless, arrogant bunch of fucks.


[22:39]

The reporter took my drink order. I ordered a beer, and I’m anxious to see if she fucks it up. That would be just like the AFP to do something like that. Arrogant Cowboy American Orders Mai Thai, Asks Twice for ‘Cute Little Umbrella’. It’s a sting, I fucking knew it. I will bring this place down around their ears. The Duke would.


[22:41]

After leaving something on my table that most certainly looked like a beer, the waitress was unresponsive to my admittedly lukewarm thank-you. Fucking narc.


[23:30]

This fucking bitch. She only came up one more time, and that was to clear off another table, and then she went back down without asking if I needed another beer. I guess I don’t, seeing as I’ve gotten attached to this one, as spending an hour with a beer brings you closer to it. I shall shit upon this bar, its name will be stricken from every card, from every column, and every positive blog entry I ever wrote about it, should there actually be any. The Thalia Movie Bar and Grill is, without a doubt, the worst bar in the world.

Comments

Leave a Comment

    • This field is required.
    • This field is required.
    • This field is required.
  • Comments use Markdown syntax. HTML may be stripped. Preview is your friend.
  • Akismet