A moment free from drudgery

All of life seems to be a prison. Except for this small pub called “Clanceys”. Is it an Irish pub?

From afar it looks like a neighborhood bar. As you walk close to get your stripper dose it’s a small undecorated building. It has no gilding and fits perfectly into the suburban bore with an inconspicuous brown door.

As you open it you’re attention will be pulled from the floor. Sometimes your gaze will be caught by the boom boom tool of a brazillian woman who’s knees are on the stool 2 feet from the door; a lovely big bottom 2 feet from your face as you walk in the door. It could be a woman dancing and singing who actually looks happy, even if she’s a bit scrappy.