We had heard tales of this place from some of hubby's other relatives who had ventured inside earlier in the week. I must say, from the "disgusted" description his aunt gave, I wasn't really looking forward to it. Hubby, however, was very excited so we ventured inside.
Hubby took this photo of me by surprise. I believe I was trying to wink and drink at the same time. He has such a good eye for catching me at exactly the worst point to take a photo. Anyways. Back to the bar. As you can see, there are bra's, panties, and other undergarments from various generations of tourists, most of them Canadian. If you added up all the money that had been stapled to the wall and signed by visitors, the owners of the bar could probably retire.
Hubby thought that this was much more interesting than Disney's magic kingdom. While I am prancing around trying not clothesline myself on hanging bra-straps, hubby is pointing excitedly to various articles of clothing and announcing things like "OMG - did you see the size of that thong?" Whist I am focusing on looking for somewhere to stand where I won't contract a major disease, and for the love of God - NOT touch anything, hubby is getting two more beers from the bartender so we can stay LONGER. I must say, after the second beer, I was feeling much more at ease, the place didn't really seem so bad, plus it was raining outside. Who wants to walk in the rain when you can study archaeological items such as garter belts from 1955?
There were 2 dogs like this one lying on various bits of furniture and mingling with the customers. In Canada this would be illegal (something about health code violations or disease control), but in the good ole US of A, all is well. This dog was cute and rather friendly, but like the rest of the bar, needed some hygienic attention.
All in all, it was an experience I'm glad I had... and no - I did not staple my bra to the wall. I thought briefly about leaving a sock, but didn't have any on.