Eater has another reader report on the Greatest Shitshow of Them All, Superdive. Of course.
"I checked out the now imfamous Superdive last night, and I was blown away by the place. I paid $7 to mix my own drink (blacklable on ice, filled to the rim), was with a group that bought a keg, and smelled the aroma of weed. I can also say the place is frattier than the frattiest frat party imaginable, and was populated by about 90% business-casual clad iBanker types, and the plain-looking, done-up to the nines girls that follow them around. I have absolutely no idea how that place plans to stay open, there are potential liabilities EVERYWHERE (health violations, SLA, lawsuits, whatever). The place is a massive house of cards."
Previously on EV Grieve.
3 comments:
i'm running out of outrage for this place.
I think I'll check it out and see if I can "pick up" an iPhone or something.
Inspired by you, I went into SuperDive last night around midnight. For some reason they have added to the mix of throbbing post-teenagers, a heater (or lack of a/c?). It was a smelly mess in there. I clawed my way to the back to get the full impact, and I thought my husband was going to pass out, even though he is tall and can presumably breath above the armpit smell.
I also went into Beauty Bar for the first time ever and discovered that the back room is a disco. (I know, everybody knows that but me.) If you like young girls in psychotically short dresses, this is where the action is, not SuperDive.
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