Wrote ByeByeBirdie:
I met my wife at Rockbar. It was a blind date, so to be clear, it wasn't a "I met my wife at Rockbar" moment....We both ordered the corn dogs. We'll tell our newborn son about it.But if you change this place to the second coming of a shithole like "Brooklyn's" or "Jackson's Sports Hole", the story will change to "we met at a dive bar on Colfax", not "we met at Rockbar".
If you change your minds, good on ya. If not, fuck you, you soulless bastards. The Human Beings will go somewhere else. We'll find each other without you.
Comments like that prompted this from Tim:
I love the smell of crushed "mid twenty profesionals" in the morning. I think maybe mommy coodled you brats too much that you feel the need to whine if you can't dance, dance, dance your ever so stressful problems away to the music that she got knocked up to in the first place. Go back to polishing your participation trophies and thinking you're the next CEO of your Groupon sales unit and let Jesse do what he sees fit with his unused kitchen.
Will Morreale's plans ruin a great dive bar? Or simply make it better? Post a comment below, or join the Rockbar conversation already going here.
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