Unsuspecting future deadbeats falling prey to the ravishes of alcohol.
Anyone familiar with my groundbreaking Charleston mayoral campaign already knows where I stand on the subject of alcohol. Like most good citizens, I favor the swift and permanent abolition of all poisonous substances and a return to the era of virtue and temperance that was 1920s America.
I think we can all agree that once I am elected mayor and alcohol is banned, everything will be perfect. But until then, what is there to do for fun? Where can we go to enjoy good food, pleasant conversation, and enjoyable music, without having to associate with sauced-up gutter trash?
It was with these questions in mind that I jumped at the chance to visit a restaurant whose name held out the promise of a simpler time before liquor traffickers ran the government and bodily fluids flowed freely in our streets. I am speaking, of course, of Prohibition, which advertizes itself as "providing culinary delights to leave you completely jazzed, from savory seafood entrees, to the finest cuts of meat prepared with perfection." Finally, a dry watering hole for the rest of us.
My friends, the place is nothing of the sort. As soon as I walked in, I was immediately overcome with the foul stench of bourbon and trickery. Despite its wholesome monicker, there was nothing “prohibited” at all, except perhaps the kind of life that is increasingly inaccessible in our fair city.
Now on the surface, the place seems perfect. The decorations and furnishings harken back to an era that most of us who are white men wish we could return. For those who aren’t, the restaurant’s lack of de jure segregation is an encouraging selling point. However, those with the courage to look beneath the surface will notice a disturbing trend in some of the signature drinks. Here are just some the “cocktails” I saw for sale at this “restaurant”:
Sounds delicious, right? Well, blink and you’ll miss it, but each of these items contains a key hidden ingredient: alcohol/poison. Even the delicious grape juice had been fermented beyond any semblance of wholesome drink, unlocking the demons within. Needless to say, I left immediately, not wishing to see the integrity of my soul or my campaign tarnished any further.
So please, if you value your life, your virtue, and the sanctity and beauty of the Holy City, give this den of iniquity a pass. Stay home with some Welch’s, go to bed early, and wake up the next morning (sans hangover) to hit the pavement and get me elected mayor. Together, we can take Charleston back to the way it probably was at some point.