Speakers Night Club

Have you ever wondered what the B-52's Love Shack would look like?  I mean...glitter on the mattress and glitter on the highway?  It is a little old place where we can get together?

I think everyone has their own vision of this "Love Shack".  People hug, kiss, wear next to nothing and sometimes they shimmy.  

In my love shack there are cardboard cut outs of stars and black lights.  There are strobe lights.  It is funky because it is all completely dark with strange corners for you to hide while performing the sprinkler.  You can indulge in some mixed drinks on the cheap.  There is awful Karaoke in my Love Shack.  People come in dressed to the nines in Fisherman hats and hair out of the eighties.  

Tin roof rusted is defined here.  Speakers is what the song Love Shack seems to define.

Bang, bang on the door baby.

Went here to see a local band. That is all.

Speakers is a tamed attempt at an inner city club scene, however it only fails in its achievement of a 'Roller Kingdom after dark.'

Speakers culls the daytime walkers and shoddy conversationalists of the town. To call this a 'dive bar' gives it far too much credit. A dive bar is an earned moniker, a lost art of atmosphere in a timeless area. Speakers is the trash left curbside on Thursdays.

The music is top 20 dance and pop hits, the standard mess making the rounds at any night club. Speakers is nothing new in an already bland business.

There have only been a few times that I felt dirty after leaving places. Although not as physically assaulting as my Family Dollar experience, Speakers gives little reason for me not to make the twenty foot waltz to Sully's.

*Dawn E, you have fun in all the wrong places it seems.