The WreckRoom

I like this place. New owners, new staff (they are actually nice). They have cleaned up the place, and put new lights on dance floor.

«Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’entrate.»
Know what that is? As Dante Alighieri pointed out, even Hell has the decency to warn people not to enter.
I live far enough from central Oklahoma City that it’s a deterrent to go there, and any time I do go I try to make the most of my time and do as much as I can as it’s practically a road trip. That being said, going out to bars in that area isn’t always plausible, as I don’t want to drive drunk, and don’t want a triple-​digit cab fare back to my house either.
The few times I have gone out in the area were only when I was staying the night, and considering the aggravation of getting there I want to do something enjoyable. So I decided to bar-​hop and had heard good things about the Wreck Room. As it was my first time, I had to spend some time looking for the entrance, and when I found it I could tell there was a pretty big crowd inside. A pouty girl… okay, she had an all-​out stinkface… said there was a cover, so I paid. Then she stamped my hand… and that was it. I was expecting a voucher to prove I paid for the drink minimum, but didn’t get one. Oh well. I then watched about a minute of a below average drag show before going to get a cocktail. However, I noticed that no one was drinking. I was hoping that I just couldn’t see any drinks, but no, the snack bar attendant said they did not serve alcohol. Needless to say, I left with a lighter wallet and no return for my money (by which I mean something at least mildly entertaining.)
I may go out again at some point, but I’ll be sure to bypass the Wreck Room next time.