Drink Your Troubles Away

Summary

The article describes a gritty, rundown bar on the outskirts of town, known for its rough clientele and atmosphere.

Abstract

The author paints a vivid picture of a seedy, dilapidated bar located in a rough part of town, characterized by its flashing neon signs, worn-out interior, and a clientele that leaves behind a trail of beer, blood, and broken dreams. The bar's ambiance is one of disrepair and danger, with broken pool cues, discolored pool table felt, and even a pair of panties left behind, suggesting a history of fights and illicit encounters. Despite the bar's shortcomings, including its basic alcohol selection and the lack of high-end champagne, there's an anticipation of change with the rumor of a new closer coming to town, hinting at a potential clean-up and transformation of the establishment.

Opinions

The bar is in dire need of renovation and cleanliness, with a suggestion that even significant improvements would barely mask the underlying issues.
The author implies that the bar is a place where serious altercations occur regularly, as indicated by the state of the pool tables and cues.
There is a sense of cynicism about the bar's current state, yet also a hint of optimism with the prospect of a new closer potentially improving the place.
The mention of the bar's standard alcohol offerings, excluding craft beer and high-end champagne, reflects an opinion on the clientele's tastes and the bar's economic status.
The reference to the dance floor and chicken wire cage around the stage suggests a lively, possibly musical, element to the bar's character, likely favoring blues music.
The author's tone conveys a mix of fascination and repulsion, highlighting the bar's raw and authentic, albeit unsavory, atmosphere.

Let it roll, baby, roll

Driving into the rough, gravel parking lot, I saw the flashing neon signs above an old shack, on the bad edge of town. The shack had seen better days, that's for sure. Some paint and TLC might pretty her up, but it wouldn’t hide the smell of beer, blood, and broken dreams. As they say, it’d be like putting lipstick on a pig.

Just walking inside, you feel you should wear a hazmat suit. You can easily see it’s the type of bar you sweep the eyeballs up at the end of the night, and bleach the vomit and blood, even though the scrubbing and the bleach only partially hide the evidence.

The beaten-up pool tables are a rough sight. Most of the pool cues are missing; most likely broken from the nightly fights. The felt should be green, but it’s definitely discolored from more than just age.

What's that under the table? Oh, it’s just a pair of panties. Somebody must have forgotten theirs last night. They probably didn’t need them anymore.

The dance floor is a good size and definitely broken in. It’s right in front of the chicken wire cage that surrounds the stage. I wonder if they play both kinds of music here, or is it a blues bar? I’d say blues, cause I don't see any photos of the duke or Hank Sr.

The bar has your standard beer, well whiskey, and tequila. No craft beer served here. Definitely not. Maybe a case or two of mid-grade champagne for the high rollers, but not top end. No Cristal or Dom.

I hear there’s a new closer coming to town. Maybe the joint will get cleaned up. But, it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.

Hell, we’re gonna have a real good time!!!

I based this descriptive world on the prompt below, and this movie. Only check the link, if I haven’t been obvious enough.

Paul Mansfield is a writer, a photographer, a guitar player, a philosopher — some he does well, some not so well, but he still tries them all.

You can follow him on Twitter @pmansfield.

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Drink Your Troubles Away

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