The Most Pretentious Bar

Cambridge, MA is not L.A. It is not Miami. It is not Manhattan. It is a college town. That said, why the hell would you create a bar called "Om", and not actually the spelling of Om, but the symbol for Om, in Cambridge?
Well last night my roommate decides that he wants to go to this bar. Apparently his friend, and I use the term loosely now, is the manager of said bar. He said he had not seen her in a while, but earlier that day she had sent him an email with her phone number, inviting him to this bar.
So at 9:20 we leave our apartment and get on the T and head down to Harvard Square in Cambridge. We get outside this bar, and before we even get near it, I notice party foul #1: a velvet rope. In Cambridge. Oooooooooo kayyy, and this place is packed...full of people wearing clothes that look like something off the set of Scarface. I could have sworn I saw Tony Montana somewhere in the back, right next to the glass waterfall, past the glowing pink and green neon lights. Everyone was drinking some swank, brightly colored concoction, each drink in a fancy looking martini glass. "I got out of my adidas jumpsuit and shell toes for this?" I said to my roommate. The people in front of us didn't think that was very funny. Figures; people who go to these places probably wont laugh at any joke that doesn't involve either them or their money.
Now, as we are standing in line, I notice we are not moving, but people keep getting in. Well, it turns out there were 5 private parties for this bar on this particular night. So, not only are we standing in line for a bar, behind a velvet rope in a college city, but there are 3 other bars right next to us, without lines, where people are wearing normal clothes and drinking less colorful beverages...normal places. Places that don't serve drinks that contain enough food coloring to kill a small mammal. And we aren't getting into this place anytime soon.
"This place is too pretentious to be waiting 40 minutes for." I say to my roommate. The doorman tells me I can go get a beer at another bar, and come back later. My roommate decides he would rather shoot the shit with the barman. He does, and informs the bouncer that his friend is in fact the manager, and that he was invited by her. The bouncer believes him and goes to get her. Now this is fucked up. The manager comes outside, looks at my friend, who she invited to this place, and says "Hi. I have to get back to work." The bitch turns around and leaves us sitting right on the street. The only 2 people left actually stupid enough to wait to get into this place.
I looked at my friend and said "Im done." We walked next door and got a Guinness.


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