Once upon a time the crusty Slummers patron could sit back in the dirty cave, happily throwing pennies in a pitcher, and catch as much cancer as they dared. But with the new smoking ban came a whirlwind of hem-hawing, procrastination, inertia and characteristic ineptitude that has blown the crusty patrons right out of their cave and into the searing daylight of the plastic-ass patio. Until Joe Daddy builds a regulation-style doorway to separate the two bars, complete with a door and a doorknob and hinges and probably - though not necessarily - a lock, Slummers will remain entirely non-smoking and the cave will remain closed for bizness. Unless of course there is a pay-per-view sporting event or shitty karaoke going on. Enjoy your suntans, smokers!
UPDATE: there's a door now. smoke up, johnny.
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