The vibe is the bar, the vibe is the people, the vibe is the culture of our place. The bar is simply the fine stage upon which we press play and let our lives go 5K HD.
Our bar sets the high bar around here, not in how we dress, nah. It's all about how we treat one another. Cheers.
We walk into the bar, colonise the booth and order a round of neat spirits. That's how we get the night started.
From the lazy spin of the fans, to the recumbent light of eventide that will soon be starlit black, the bar soaks in the ambiance of this good night.
It's a bar, but everyone is attempting to appear proper in their high end suits and attire. Me and Ralph, we're the only ones that look normal... but I guess 'normal' is relative, right? It's a fancy place alright, a sort of minimalist-classical, but that's okay for us. We were born to stand out and the whiskey here is pretty darn good.
If I could melt into this bar I'd be the vibe, move around as easily as the smoke. I'd soak in the laughter and the smiles, dance upon each octave in microscopic disco shoes. But meanwhile, back in reality instead of my imaginary world, I'm life-size, and so... instead I'll step into the shaded room that opens my eyes all the wider, see the muted colours of the bottles and the glitter than finds every spark of light. As the night goes on, I'll be more comfortable in this crowd, intoxicated by spirits and the moments all the same.
The bar is hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the rock music that dominates the atmosphere. The crowd is young, students from the university for the most part. Levi winds his way through the warm bodies to order a drink - the dark local beer. Before the drink is poured he feels someone melting their body to his from behind and he knows Sasha has arrived.
The bar started out as a plank of wood suspended between two oil drums on the beach. My hippie mate Sef began it when he dropped out of highschool at 16, much to the dismay of his overachieving parents. All those piano lessons gone to waste. He moved out and couch surfed among his friends for a while, then he got mighty sick of having back ache like some old man and he got motivated. His bar was a huge success, none of his friends were old enough to get into a real bar for drink. He just moved his barrels and plank around to avoid the cops, announce the location on social media and pop up minutes before the start time. His raves made him pretty wealthy for a teen and everyone thought he'd be a druggie next, now that he was so flush and all. But that's not what happened. He never touched a drop of booze, in his glass was water with food dye to make it look like whiskey, or water in a vodka bottle. Sef went right out and bought a suit, got a bank loan and started a real classy bar