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Is Martini’s Actually Any Fun, or Just the Closest Bar?

Martini’s has perplexed Hawkeyes for years. It’s always kinda empty, there aren’t really drink deals, an older crowd tends to gather there but…it’s Tini’s, ya know? With the beer garden sitting at a pretty 10 degrees and nowhere to hide your belligerent friend when the cops come strutting in, there are a lot of reasons to avoid Tini’s, yet it still remains a staple of bar life at Iowa. The Black Sheep has synthesized the best of both sides to this perplexing argument:

Point: When I walk in to Tinis all I see are groups of people who are already friends skulking around in the corner playing pool, refusing to dance, refusing to prostitute around for drinks, and daring to actually sit in the booths.
Counterpoint: Get a drink and get over it, bitch.
Point: People keep walking in and out of the backdoor to smoke cigarettes, and every time they do frigid air wafts through this bar and makes me freezing cold all over again.
Counterpoint: Maybe you should step out there for a cig yourself, and pull that stick out of your ass while you’re at it.
Point: These drinks are expensive.
Counterpoint: And strong.
Point: There’s a DJ next door at Union.
Counterpoint: And a cover.
Point: The same three guys have been playing darts all night and won’t let anyone else join.
Counterpoint: Throw your body in front of the board and see if they stop. I dare you.
Point: I swear that nobody here is drunk, but every time I go in the bathroom I hear somebody puking.
Counterpoint: They probably know how to pregame, bitch.
Point: The bartenders seriously keep ignoring me to talk to one another.
Counterpoint: STFU those are my bros.
Point: I think the only people who come here are people who work here or know someone who works here.
Counterpoint: U jealous, bitch?
Point: Seriously, I’m going to leave.
Counterpoint: Yeah? It’s pretty cold out there.
Point: I’m going to Sports Column.
Counterpoint: That’s like two blocks away.
Point: I’m going anywhere else
Counterpoint: There’s a line everywhere else.
Point: You have a point there.
Counterpoint: Technically, it was a counterpoint. Have a drink. A bar’s a bar.

A true model of camaraderie. This is a timeless argument, and we can’t say that we’ve ended it forever, but The Black Sheep is proud to agree that for now, “a bar’s a bar.”

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