This is like the Doral of midtown lounges; full of Venezuelans. And also other varieties of South Americans. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I’m just preparing you if you don’t like fake tits and an overuse of the word “pana.”
First thing I noticed is they charged $20.
I haven’t been here in its restaurant mode, only in its loungy electro-Euro megamix music setup. I was in the area and a friend of mine was at Andalus. She said I should stop by and listen to some “tiki tiki” music which is what she calls electronic music. First thing I noticed is they charged $20. I understand cover charges when there’s an awesome live band playing, the spot is beyond spectacular, or they’re going to put that cover in a Roth IRA in your name, but when it’s a regular lounge that’s retarded. Seriously, people are going to be in there buying drinks, isn’t that enough revenue generation? It’s like a restaurant charging you a cover so you can go in and buy their food.
Andalus had the most wretched-smelling restroom of all time. It smelled like an Indian gym class huddled in a broken elevator. I can’t imagine they let that shit go on during the day when the place is supposed to be a restaurant. To top it off, they were out of soap and out of paper towels. This means there were a lot of guys walking around with dick residue on their hands. The restroom was the first place I went to because I needed to take a righteous piss. Right after that, I hit the bar.
I’m not sure if that’s textbook daddy issues or if it’s on some other level of kinkiness I have yet to encounter.
While at the bar, some hammered chick starts talking to me. At first I thought she was hitting on me, but then I wasn’t sure. She asked me how tall I was, I told her, and she said, verbatim, “like my dad… that’s sexy.” I’m not sure if that’s textbook daddy issues or if it’s on some other level of kinkiness I have yet to encounter. That caught me off guard, so to compound the awkwardness I said, “that’s cool, I’d like to meet him.” In my head I’m thinking, “what am I saying…” but she was so trashed she only agreed and said, “yeah.” She grilled me like a cop for about 30 seconds then asked me what I ordered, because the bartender finally fucking got to work after phoning it in for the past five minutes. I told her Tanqueray and ginger ale, and they didn’t have Tanqueray so I had to settle with Bombay Sapphire, the Dane Cook of gins.
When I get my drink, boom, she grabs it and takes a sip. Then she smiles at me like it’s all fucking good. I wanted to say, “bitch I will violence you” but instead said, “uhhhhh what.” Maybe she thought that shit was cute, or maybe she’s a goddamn cunt that uses her looks to get whatever she wants, but I didn’t give a crap either way. That’s not good flirtation unless just before you did that you two were discussing larceny. I took my drink from her hands and just turned around and waited for my friend to finish getting his drink. Then we found my other friend we were there to meet and had a decent time.
To sum it up: The restrooms are as clean as Haiti, the cover too much, and the bitches be crazy.
Sorry to any Haitians that took that as a slight, I just wanted a country that sort of rhymed with crazy. And is also dirty.
People who would enjoy it
People who would not enjoy it
- 35 NE 40th St
- Miami, FL 33137
- (305) 400-4324