Well, if you'll read my post above, you'll see it was about a 95 percent Afro-American to 5 percent Caucasian American mix. So, good mix? Not really.
And yeah, definitely funky. There was the drunk grandma who was sloshed before she even came up for her first vodka and cranberry juice. She made return trips to the bar about every 10 minutes, each time the opening on her blouse getting looser and looser.
There was the gold-toothed auntie who came up and ordered two drinks and not so subtly passed one off to an underaged girl.
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Ever notice how this place just basically, well, sucks.
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