… having gone up in flames this morning. In the days when I used to swing by (between, say, 1985 and 1993), this legendary dive bar was called “The Pink Flamingo.” There was a glorious ferment there, of artists and musicians and writers and editors and significant others and copious incarnations of riffraff. Made real friends in that place.
Click on the photo below to see a lovely panorama of photographs of the bar published in “The Scoundrel’s Field Guide“:
“La forme d’une ville / Change plus vite, hélas ! que le cœur d’un mortel.”
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