Location, Location: Roadside Attraction. Belmont's best kept secret bar. Where the walls are as red as Rose McGowan's lips, and the decor seems handpicked by the lady from Shanghai herself. I order my first ever, white russian. Or as I like to call them, The Big Lebowski drink. Much to the unappreciative tone of the sassy stoutly gay bartender. Who in my eyes, resembles a skin inflammation.
Spotted: Black and beige hipster with Jack Skellington legs engaged in a solo game of pool. Upon, what else?, but a luscious red velvet billiard table. Skills in ball whacking haven't been this dull since my 19Th Birthday present.
Spotted: Uh-oh, there's a pool crasher. Mustached pudge hipster wearing Coyote Joe's hat is fighting with cricket legs over beer money. My bets are on neither opponent.
Outside the crowd is as lively smokey as usual. I don't envy them as I would have before I gave up my sinful habit. Yet the atmosphere amongst the porch swings and fire pits bathed in American Spirit smoke still carries the undying memory of my first experience at this lovely establishment, in that it was nothing short of an adult version of the Frontierland attraction at Disneyworld. In terms of style and setting dear over 21 bloggers, this bar serves as one of my top favorites within the city limits. But hark, the 70 bus is passing by to cart away more people to be dropped off in what is most likely to be a more inferior location. But hark times two, the jack skellington pool boy is boarding the that bus as I scroll. Looks like I'm headed to Rose Quarter. ;)
Until my next venture barhoppers, keep your guards up.
Cereal Man.
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