When I was about 20 me and my brother went to a bar that makes awesome margaritas… I was STUPID drunk. My brother ran into an acquaintance of his. Dude said he knew a great after-hours spot in South Philadelphia. The building had no signs and no windows. Dude rang a bell and did weird shit with his hands at the video camera above the door. A minute later this creepy looking guy opens the door and tells us if we have any weapons we need to check them. We didn’t have any, so we go upstairs into a bar the size of my living room.
There was a bunch of guys dressed in really nice suits. The urinals were full of empty coke bags. I, unfortunately, did not get to do any coke.
I played a Frank Sinatra song on the jukebox. The dudes in suits got really happy and were singing. One guy put his arm around me and bought me a bourbon.
That’s the only time a mobster bought me a drink.
