Happy Hour is 3 p.m. to 7 p.m.
I show up and order some food and drinks at 2:54 (that’s what the receipt says), and you charge me full-price? Really, Blue Iguana? You really can’t spot me the six minutes? I suppose I could have just stopped my order and waited, but that seems sort of silly, doesn’t it?
OK, so you have rules. I get it. Happy Hour starts at 3, not 2:54. If you started it early for me, you’d have to start it early for the dozens of
two other people in there.
So that’s a huge fail for the Blue Iguana.
Anything else? No, not really. Typical bar, really. Adrienne thought it was a biker bar because it’s connected to a bike shop next door. She thought we might get knifed. I explained to her the difference between this kind of biker, a middle-aged man who can probably answer any of your tax questions, and the kind of biker who’d knife you: Visit Groggy’s in Mesa, Arizona. No, these people were tame.
But the Happy Hour thing. Unacceptable, Blue Iguana. Other than that, great fries. Thick, greasy and salty. Excellent. But pricey ($5).
And you won’t get knifed.
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