Last night was the end of an era. If that doesn’t get your attention, I don’t know what does. For the last time (and the first time for Johnny) we sat down on the purple velour benches, cracked open a cold brew, and clinked glasses at probably the best bar in Hollywood: the Coronet Pub.
To my dismay, I got a rather disturbing email from J-mar on Monday saying the Coronet was closing it’s doors, and I damn well better come out Tuesday night to celebrate the shutting of the big black door.
Situated across the street from Girls Girls Girls and next door to Trashy Lingerie, The Coronet is probably the most comforting bar you can ever walk in to. The minute you walk in the door, you feel at home. There is one television and it’s always on ESPN. The whole place is no bigger than my living room, but you can always get a seat at the bar. Hell, a lot of the time, we were the only people in there, even on a Saturday night. The music is at an ideal level, where you can carry on a conversation without raising your voice, but it’s loud enough that you can sing along if the mood struck you.
I am not only going to miss this little piece of paradise, but all the good memories and the great atmosphere. It was a place where the minute you walked in the door, you knew there would be a friend there waiting for you. So let’s all raise one last pint to The Coronet, may it live on within each of us, our own little spot of heaven.
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