Sala Virtual

Hahaha, for those of you who can read/​speak in Spanish, do yourself a favor and check out the other review of this place. First of all, the reviewer is hilarious, and I’m not actually going to deny anything that she said about this place – it’s pretty much all true, especially the 1988 comment. My friend and I had been drinking in a bar a couple of blocks away and decided to go out for some fresh air – or a cigarette, which to some people is like fresh air – when a group of drunken Madrilenos decided to befriend us and drag us around, insisting that the party was wherever they were. How could we resist?
The girl who had originally approached us was very drunk and informed us that it was her birthday and was yelling at her group of people to turn here and turn there. The truth is that after a few minutes of walking and wandering into stranger, darker, more run-​down streets, we began to have our doubts (again, read the other review if you can), until we eventually we ended up in front of a very uninviting door. Thank god we had not trusted our instincts; we basically looked at each other and said «f*** it» as we entered the door. It’s definitely not a tourist destination, and I don’t know how any tourist would be able to find it or if he/​she would want to go in if he/​she did; it’s definitely a spot for the locals. The drinks were standard and not as expensive as you might find somewhere else, the people were incredibly friendly and the music – though dated – was a’ bumpin. Everyone, including the two of us, was a hot, sweaty mess and loving every moment of it.
I don’t know if I would recommend this place to someone who didn’t speak Spanish or didn’t appreciate a good dive bar, but I most certainly would if a person met those two criteria. We had an awesome time that night – I’m sure partially because of Isa and Chuchi – but I would certainly go back even if it was not with them.
(On a side-​note) Thanks Isa and Chuchi! We’ll never forget you!

Bueno bueno bueno, nunca olvidaré esas chicas que tras encontrárnoslas un poco perdidos buscando a dónde ir a altas horas de la mañana nos dijeron que al Virtual o al Crisis, ambos uno al lado de otro en la calle Ballesta.
Lo principal es hablar sobre lo turbio de la calle ya por si sola, pero no quiero entrar en detalles escabrosos porque da para un libro de terror lo que pude observar cerveza en mano decidiendo cuál de los dos sitios que nos habían propuesto daba menos miedo.
Elegimos entrar en el Virtual, en la entrada un ser (no recuerdo si femenino o masculino) nos dio un flyer en el que se podía leer 2 copas x 12 €, bien, ¡nos vale!
Lo que nos encontramos fue un auténtico espectáculo empezando con que sonaba una canción de Chimo Bayo.
La gente era como sacada de la ruta del bakalao, nos vimos trasladados a 1988. es más, mucha de la gente que estaba ahí dentro estaba moviendo el esqueleto igual en 1988.
Las copas como era de esperar un garrafón de la muerte.
Un final curioso cuanto menos a la noche que sólo se podía dar con el amigo que me acompañaba. Avisados estáis, luego no quiero lloros.