Bar #2 Rocket Bar
Time: Friday from 8 – what seemed like forever
Type of skank: Ex-Sorority skank
Type of douche: Frat boy douche who dresses like Kanye
Cost:
$4 Miller Lite
$5 Rail
$6.50+ for Dogfish
I arrived at Rocket Bar around eight and walked up to a nondescript door. The only thing that denoted this was Rocket Bar was a barely-noticeable neon sign. The steps leading down reminded me of the time that I had spend in Uzbekistan (and the events which led to incarceration and my eventual escape, but that’s a story for another day).
I pushed open the door at the bottom and my nostrils were immediately assaulted by a smell that brought me back to my younger days. I couldn’t place the aroma at first, but after a few minutes it came back to me – Tijuana: vomit, urine, and stale beer! I tried to shake off the noxious odor as my eyes adjusted to the garish decor. It’s obvious that the owners tried to achieve a unique look, but they ended up just shitting the bed (which could also explain the smell). As I walked through what felt more like a cave than a bar, I noticed pool tables, Big Buck Hunter and skeeball. My first thought was that the only reason someone should come here was to play one of these games. Then again, there are other bars in the District that offer those games, plus character. I stepped into the other room and found more pool tables, shuffleboard, an internet jukebox and dart boards in the far corner.
At the bar I spied Cupcakes and Gin Kitten. I slid up to the bar and ordered a Dogfish 60 Minute, by far the best beer the menu. Looking at the clientele I felt that I’d been transported back to my college days. There were douche bags imitating the style of Kanye West (and failing miserably) and ex-sorority girls hoping to land a husband, or at the very least, not get roofied that night. The more I took in the decor the more I felt like I was in a dirty Chuck-E-Cheese. But unlike Chuck-E-Cheese, they don’t serve food in this hellhole. The bartender mentioned that I could bring in food from the outside, and there were even some places nearby that deliver. I mulled this over but wondered who in the hell could eat with that overpowering stench permeating every fiber of your being. As I continued to check the scene, some random douchebag caught my attention and I and blurted out, “Does that dude have a faux-hawk?” Cupcakes responded with, “No its just a bad haircut.” Initially I thought the bar’s internet jukebox was fantastic. That is, until the sound went up to deafening levels, and I was subjected to a steady stream of Lady Gaga. My god, it was like the torture I was subjected when I was picked up in the Middle East so many years ago. I’ve since learned that some bars use this as part of their strategy to get you to drink more. One thing that I did appreciate was that they allow you to start a tab, then they give your card back and you are able to order at any bar.
We stayed there for what seemed like an eternity. Several drinks into the night, a misguided Cupcakes started challenging all the large men in our group to arm-wrestling matches, while Gin Kitten wandered off to flirt with some geek in an xkcd t-shirt. Having other friends out that night was probably what made an evening at Rocket Bar slightly better than a vigorous waterboarding. One of my friends had her wallet and keys stolen. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard of shady business going down at Rocket Bar. Another friend had to pay for more than a few drinks that some asshat put on his tab. I stayed for a few more drinks and as I left I thought that I was going to have to burn my clothes and bathe in tomato juice to rid myself of this stench.
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