Club 68

Fresh off a 4 hour drive, I arrived in Laredo thirstier than a desert camel wearing a sweater. There was no time to spare. I stopped at the nearby 7 Eleven to make a Five Loko and wandered into town on foot like John J. Rambo fresh off a tour.

The outside of Club 68 looked like a used car sales lot, with cars parked in seemingly complex and puzzling manner that would need a Rubrik's cube expert to unravel. Jesus take the wheel, cuz this crowd's drinkin and drivin tonite. 🛐🚗💨

When I walked in you could hear the soap drop in a prison shower. Clearly I was either a snitch or just confused hipster scum. Everyone looked like they did their own car repairs and kept a switchblade in their right boot. I wasn't packing.

The decor was a blast from the past, like a frat house suite from 1996. Big swimsuit model posters, christmas lights, beer signs, and an exquisite half-nude Aztec warrior mural. Guys will see this and just say "hell yeah."

The beer prices are cheap and the bartender wraps the bottle in a napkin like a cruise ship barman or Neil McCauley. I need to start doing that because it's a pretty classy way to drink not-classy beer. This place is probably a good hangout once you put in the time. But, alas, time I did not have.

I had a first-class ticket for the Five Loko express and the train was leaving the station.