#39: Barcelona

The Bar

Barcelona. 209 E 6th St, Austin, TX 78701

Visited 2/11/17 @ 11:30pm.

The Drink

Rumple Minze shot. $4.75.

Imagine my lack of positive emotions upon being presented with another Rumple Minze shot, mere minutes after receiving one from the previous bar. Actually don't imagine it because I'll tell you: I was pissed! I imagine that serving a round of shots is normally a smart move for bartenders: any group of people ordering one round is almost certainly going to order more (especially if they're observing the code of the round), and as they get drunker and drunker the odds of them racking up a big tab get better and better. The joke was on him, since we didn't order more rounds, but that doesn't make a second consecutive Rumple Minze shot any easier to swallow.

The Crew

Geoff, Rome, Aaron, James, Vince, Travis (not pictured), Elijah (not pictured), Cat (not pictured).

Notes

Barcelona is a subterranean dance club, accessible by a poorly lit staircase that someone thought would be fun to watch drunk people try to ascend and descend (whoever he was, he was right). Once you've made it down into this alcoholic oubliette, there's a bartender to the left, and ahead of you the dance floor, with a DJ who was playing some pretty solid EDM, as I recall. The crowd was digging it; maybe not to the most intense degree possible, but certainly more than we were. EDM isn't really my genre, although I did go to raves and such in high school. I can listen to the music, and even more to the genre's precursors, I just don't consider myself an "EDM person", at least not when on a group bar crawl like this.

This was the sixth stop of the night, and so my memories of this bar don't have quite the crystalline clarity you've come to expect. I was definitely feeling the effects of what had to be at least ten drinks, so allow me to subject you to yet another terrible piece of doggerel commemorating my mental state at the time:

You're quite a few bars in, and the air is clear as gin
You've had a couple shots, and your stomach's tied in knots
You need a calming beer, but your brain is out of gear
You've had your fill of toasts, and all you want to do is ghost

Of all the negative side effects this project has had on me, from hangovers to expensive tabs to acting a fool trying to get girls' numbers, perhaps attempted poetry is the worst of all.