A Gay Ole' Time

Well, it was an amazing five day visit, with my RHF (rapunzel-haired-friend). Five whole days with one of the coolest chicks on the block and it.was.awesome. We really didn't do a whole lot, but decided that it was important for RHF to experience the Fredericton night-life before she left. 
Since Monday was a holiday, we thought we'd hit up a local joint for Karaoke on Sunday night. After an appropriate amount of pre-bar bevvies with a couple of local friends, we grabbed our coats and headed out to "sing." Downtown was dead, as most people were at home in turkey-comas, so we bypassed the Karaoke place to hit up the one bar that was sure to be awesome. 

Obviously, I'm referring to the local gay bar (and by "gay," I mean homosexual). 

We weren't totally sober, but managed to have difficult time understanding how the cover charge worked. We're all cover-charge professionals by now, so you'd think that it'd be a simple process. Well, for some reason, on Sundays there were options. It was fairly chilly out, so we were anxious to get inside the bubble of heat that we could feel radiating out of the front doors and the barely-dressed lady  behind me couldn't understand why it was taking so long for the line to move forward (um, hello?!? get a coat). As RHF appropriately asked, "Why does it have to be a riddle?"

Here's the simplified version of what the door dude was explaining in a ridiculously complicated manner (in hindsight, he may not have been the problem. Moving on). 

Option 1 - $3 for nothing but getting in
Option 2 - $8 for getting in, and also getting a bracelet that would make all of your drinks half price and free coat-check.

We were confused because who wouldn't go for option 2?! Aren't you in a bar to drink?! That was fantastic thing #1.
Minutes later, the four of us were inside and making use of our surprisingly ugly (remember we were at the gay bar?) bracelets. We danced, got some drinks, and then inevitably found ourselves looking for the ladies' room. 

Which is when we discovered fantastic thing #2, The Boom Boom Room.

The Boom Boom Room was a randomly placed bar that is on the 2nd floor with the washrooms Essentially, it was the waiting area if there was a line. At first, we were a little confused at the placement, however, it didn't take us long to see the genius. So the little Boom Boom Room was manned (pun intended) by a single bartender and his primary purpose was to concoct delicious shots while you waited (except for the Purple Dragon, which was super gross and tasted like expired grape cough syrup). 

Sheer genuis. Seriously, whoever thought of that should get some time of entrepreneurial award. And the name is hilariously appropriate. Although, that award-winner is also responsible for the bruh-tal flight that RHF had on Monday. There's nothing worse than being awake for your entire hangover, unless of course, you're having said hideous hangover on a teeny-tiny plane where you've been forced to sit next to people who are drinking beer while you use your entire brain to focus on breathing and not having to use the ever-so-unsexy paper bag, conveniently located behind the bar menu, in the pocket on the seat in front of you. Luckily, she succeeded. 

Bracelets for everyone!!

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