The tar pit gets an upgrade

The liquor store sign on the door reveals  this store delivery policy and that the fact that it's delivered straight to you , with proper ID and a means to pay, makes the sauce "saucey". It's something you download for your phone or your PC, and it is appropiate "killer app" for those times when you're killing brain cells by killing one bottle of distilled wretch after another. Next door the bar with the least curb appeal in Banker's Hill, shown with a wood siding that resembles the faux oak panels that dominated the walls of Midwestern basements that had full wet bars and random , torn travel posters thumnailed to them, a forlorn sign reading "cocktails" over the door and and a cumbersome security door painted white to make the usually black barrier seem just a shade bit more friendly, has a new sign announcing the tavern's name in a jubilant , bouncy fount. All very nice, if you're dead and without opinion about anything, but this outside of this bar looks like some thing you'd see in Steve Ditko's neighborhood. A place that never closes and no one is ever seen walking out of.