Did I ever think I would say that? Korova, which I loved from the first moment I wandered in and landed in a crowd of kids jumping to Franz Ferdinand. Where I've pretty much spent the last two years, since back when Amy was trying bartending there, and we weren't ejected at 3am.
Oh, countless foosball tournaments, the time I won at pool, using the window to spy on the street below... just a ton of personal memories.
But, honestly, who is that bald loser? Last night there was, get this, a *line up* to get in. And next to the line-up was a constant stream of exodus, with each person telling us that the place was nowhere near crowded and they didn't understand the line. What made me furious though was this guy at the door yelling at people: "can't you even follow basic instructions?" But the very same "smart" guy would yell down "line up over here"... and not say "to the right, to the left, in the center". Where the hell is "over here", dude, we can't even see you from down here, but we still get to enjoy your insults. Oh, yes, I'm dying to go into your bar.
Worse, worse, worse: after choosing the foosball and drinks next door for a while, we got a call from inside Korova to go back. No more line. Well, at the end of the night, Mr. I Own This Place So I Am Entitled To Be A Skank is being equally rude to the Djs, who as usual are the principal point of going to Korova in the first place. I hope they quit.
And I hope he sits on a hot plate.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
boycott Korova
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2 comments:
I would send this review to The Mirror. That will hasten the departure of Mr. Big, unless he is the owner, than it will hasten the depart of Korova.
the word is that the bald loser had a taser in his possession that night. a taser! nobody carries something that they're not prepared to use. at the top of those treacherous stairs too.
he is a tyrant.
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