As the clubs on the Freemont strip bask in an embarrassment of riches in the midst of the 70’s madness celebration, Mermaid's Bar remains dead (and as boring) as a door nail.
No wonder!
The tawdry bit**es posted outside to lure in patrons have all the personality and enthusiasm of a worm!
When it comes to “looks” and sex appeal, the bevy of bimbo babes here, are best categorized as "dawgs".
In high school, the “in” crowd used to refer to gals like these sorry drink-pushers as double-baggers.
Instead of placing one bag over their head, you toss on two, in case the first one breaks.
Ouch!
When I sauntered by this sleazy joint, I almost burst out laughing when I caught sight of the two unshapely broads posted at the entrance to hand out shiny plastic beads and invite potential guests inside.
One gal was squeezed into a festive outfit about two sizes too small (to her detriment).
Rolls of fat fell over her unsightly pinched-in-skirt and a sickly white paunch jiggled out-of-control, whenever she moved this way or that.
Most dudes would rather hop into the sack with an inflatable doll, than risk a romp in the hay with some skanky broad like that.
Inside, the short - rough-and-tumble-looking cocktail waitresses - reeked of bad attitude.
They acted like their sh** didn’t stink.
And, the dizzy Ms. Lizzies couldn't keep track of their cocktail orders, to boot!
When you happen across this dive on Freemont Street, just stroll on by this pack of losers.
Who knows - what they're inflicted with - may be contagious.
God forbid!
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