From time to time I like to share my immense knowledge on the subject of “Things” with my audience (which is, every day, coming more and more to resemble those “army of one” recruitment posters you see in the subways).
Past entries have detailed my solution for mideast peace (start a crack epidemic); the all-female Christian rock act I plan to form and manage (GodSlut!); and a bunch of other humorous, albeit useless, solutions to things that may or may not have ever really been a problem.
My latest grand creation is the Bardega. And what this is, essentially, is a bodega but with a bar in the back: because who among us hasn’t found himself wanting a salami and bacon sandwich with extra salt at three o’clock in the morning? I figure, bodegas have plenty of beer, they just need some stools and it’s Go Time.
Another way to think of it is that the bardega would become the mullet of the drinking world: It’s business up front and a party in the back.
Well, that’s it, really, in all it’s glory: The idea that will one day make some smart entrepreneur hundreds, literally, hundreds of dollars.
Today’s lesson: The bardega should not be confused with the Edgar Degas: one’s an Impressionist while the other is more dada.
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