Bar #13: The Passenger
Time: Friday midnight-close
cost:
- no cheap beer
- $5+ decent
- $7 rail
clientele: hipsters, scenesters and posers
We ended up at the Passenger at the end of a long night of drinking, crazies and reminiscing. At this point we managed to whittle down the large group from Laughing Man to a manageable group of 10-20. I can’t be sure exactly how many since my blood was well saturated.
Upon entering there’s a large unused space in front of the bar. No tables, just what appears to be a dance floor but is clearly not used as one. I rolled up to the bar to quickly order a drink and rudely placed myself at an ‘open’ spot that happened to break up two people hanging out. I chatted with them briefly and learned that one was a lawyer. Upon learning this I demanded him buy me a drink, but immediately walked off with the beer I purchased and rejoined the group. I was impressed our group managed to find some bar space. This pretty much left us sandwiched between the bar and a wall (or is it supposed to be rock and a hard place?) and in the way of people headed to the bathroom. Near the end of the night I realized some other people caught up with us but brilliantly plopped down in an open booth.
I’m a fan of the decor of this place; black walls, fun lighting and a window seat that is pretty great (though too large and a pain in the ass to get in and out of). The convention center area is sort of an up and coming bar scene as more places have been opening. This brings it’s own set of characters as Samedi notes below. As far as I’m concerned the Passenger is a welcome edition to it (but I won’t be going out of the way to come here).
Here’s what Samedi had to say:
I like the beer selection but the clientele makes me wanna go on a murderous rampage. I hate hipsters, scenesters and posers! I long for the days when they would get robbed and beat up just for being in this neighborhood. Everytime I’m in a bar like this and hear one of them complain how the neighborhood isn’t what it once was I wanna slap them with a chair and ask them if they are talking about when they were still living in whatever shitty part of the midwest they are from.
And for future reference ending the night with a Martini night cap equals bad idea. I just remember the sweet sweet taste of a salty olive.
Note: Gin Kitten and I believe the heart of the midwest is fantastic but the other states can piss-off.
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