A New Bar

After our adventure on Sunday, we decided to check out another local one.

There is one that is just a block away. It's near the intersection of the two main thoroughfares in our part of town. The streets are wide. It's well-lit. It's a nice part of town.

So we ducked under the smaller than door-size piece of cloth hanging in the doorway.

Daniel and I stopped dead in our tracks.

We had entered, hands-down, the seediest place I have ever been in. The garish lighting illuminated rows of dirty tables and chairs all of them filled with prostitutes, their cleavage bursting out, and lower class Moroccan men, stubble-chinned and ruffle-haired. They were almost all facing the one small television in the corner, which happened to be directly above the entrance.

My first reaction was, "Cool. I've always wondered what one of these places really looked like."

My second reaction: "Ok, I've seen enough. Ready to go."

My third reaction: "Hmmm...might be interesting if we stick around for a while..."

Daniel and I looked around the room. There were no open seats anywhere. More than anything else, that settled it for us. We turned to each other and simultaneously nodded towards the doorway.

Even in no-auto-emissions-standard Meknes, the air smelled fresher on the street.

We walked around the corner and into a shisha bar we know well.