Well, that's it. An end of an era. The neighborhood's last tolerable bar that empowered us to puff our way through intoxication has banned the very act.
We're sure this news isn't a big deal to many of you, our health-conscious readers of pristine lung capacity. But we welcomed the bar's casual “fuck you” to the law. Besides, where else could we make-out girls we have an increased chance of outliving?
Now what's left of the place? Pool, cheap drinks, a great jukebox, and that east coast dive feel ever so lacking in SF? Balderdash. Cigarettes were the blackened glue that held the joint together. And now? Nothing.