Hoops tavern

I think I had a pretty great time pretty much every single visit to this establishment. Drunk karaōke, knocking around some pool balls, the local homeless clientele, driving pitcher after pitcher of light beer into me, thus guaranteeing some sort of blacked-​out injury on the bike ride home.
Sitting on the stretch of Orange Ave away from the clubs and bars further down, right near the bus station, this was always a great oasis when trying to avoid the insanity of downtown on a busy night.
I’ve had a lot of fun here. This bar holds a special place in my heart (and liver).

I recently visited this fine drink dispensary on a trip to Orlando. My Friends band was playing and I thought I’d see them while we were both in town.
The bar itself is nothing particularly offensive. I wouldn’t hold a 2-​year old’s birthday party there, but I also didn’t fear getting crabs from the bar stool. In the dive bar world, that’s considered par.
The drinks were also fairly cheap. They have this half size pitchers (which they ran out of) that are only $ 4 and at half the size any normal man can feel like a giant holding one (while a dwarf may only feel slightly less dwarfish).
However, the drinks were also the root of the problem with the bar. I’m willing to admit I’m clearly out of the bar’s «target demographic,» in terms of regular clientele (that demographic happens to be the less than friendly, elderly transient, who lives under bridges like an ogre and is simply looking for a place to drink himself into a stupor of self-​tolerance before return to his bridge to wonder why the world doesn’t love an ogre, or catch the billy goats gruff… depending on the night). This aside, the «bartender» (I use quotes because I doubt she had any formal training, in anything) was unbelievably rude to the «non-​regular» costumers who happened to be filling her otherwise empty bar on this evening. Many of us were looking to have long nights that didn’t involve drinking as quickly as possible to forget our lost comrades (who were turned into stone when the sun last rose, as tends to happen to ogres… I think), and thus were ordering beer. LOTS of beer, mind you. Pitchers and pitchers of the stuff, so much so they ran out of certain brands.
This was no enough for the bartender, who apparently wanted everyone trashed and out of her building so she can continue looking like the 36 year old version of a cast member of MTV’s «16 and Pregnant». Around 10pm she began loudly yelling at patrons that everyone was ordering «F***ing beer» and not liquor. Again, lots of beer and lots of tips, but apparently this wasn’t enough. She continued this fiasco throughout the evening, even going so far as to ignore certain patrons and pretty much demonstrate a general disgust for all the people in attendance for the show.
While it was wonderful seeing my friends and having a show in a small, comfy bar, I have never had such a level of hostility and poor service at any bar. Perhaps they’re better serviced on other nights.