The Hard Times is your typical run of the mill hole in the wall dive. In passing, the entrance is barely noticeable save for the usual overt liquor advertisements and a small cheesy blue neon light spelling out the name of the place. Upon entering, you’re hit with the vapid stench of liquor, sweat, and an array of smoke of varying legal stance. To your left is a long banged up wooden bar, to your right a row of small shabby booths. Straight ahead is a fair sized stage just in front of the pit where they have hard bands play most nights of the week. The crowd is a rough breed and those who stick out too much are usually met with an appropriate hostility.
Since they have bands play and serve food (albeit a terribly grease pit rendition of the word) you can enter the place at 18, obviously 21 to drink. There generally isn’t anyone sitting at the door to catch underage persons unless they’re crowded which only really happens on Friday and Saturday nights, which makes for far too many young entries. The owner is shady enough not to mind so long as they keep it on the down low and refrain from doing anything to draw attention to themselves.
