Don't Feed the Fish

Here we are at the best bar on earth, The Swizzle Inn, in Phoenix, AZ. No, the Swizzle doesn’t have an outdoor patio. But it does have a super sweet atrium plopped down right in the middle of the place. The atrium is completely walled-in and appears to have been decorated by a blind surfer on acid. In other words, it’s awesome.

Technically, the atrium is just for looks. During the day, sunlight streams in from the open roof allowing patrons to gaze upon the tasteful décor: a beat up surfboard, sunburned plants and an old paddle that exclaims, “Please! Leave this at Shit Creek.” Naturally, from the moment we discovered the Swizzle Inn its atrium called to us like a siren song.

So last Sunday, fueled by liquid courage ($1.50 Bloody Mary’s) and some twisted bar logic (“If they didn’t want people to go in, why is there a sliding door?”) we casually sauntered into the atrium. And oh it was glorious! A psychedelic fishbowl full of magical things, a place where all your hopes and dreams could come true! We immediately pledged never to leave. Which turned out to be a good thing because someone had locked the door.

Jenny