Proud Member of Pub Garbage

She was good looking. She knew it. She was dressed to kill. And she was in the hipster bar talking with my friend.

As it happens I enter the conversation, and small talk comes out.

Oh she really does not like this bar. The people are strange. The music is strange. The bar is strange.

“Well” I ask, “where do you hang out?”

She lifts her nose up and tells me she hangs out at the -name- Club.

Oh, that club is the meat market of the town. I start smiling.

Then her nose goes even up and she proudly declares she actually spends more time in the Cellar Bar.

Now I am thinking to myself, “Cellar”... “Hell there must be a new place in town”

A few days later I remembered the conversation, and checked the cellar.

Turns out the “Cellar” is the second name for the cheapest bar in downtown, a dumpster, a shithole, (ok, has cheap shots... from sober to drunk in ten minutes, under ten euros is possible), a bar in the same category as the one in From Dusk Till Dawn, without the vampires, and without the class, without the sexy dancer to the sexy music.

Ah, my little girl, you are so confused.

So proud of being garbage...

So proud of being the booty call of a rich boy... (that info was also revealed, possibly to trigger the competitive side in me)

Education gone wrong...