"Lately I 've been watching some cyberpunk stuff like the Blade Runners, Akira, Ghost in the Shell, the Matrix, Altered Carbon etc etc to get me into a certain escapist headspace. I needed to get some cyberpunk aethetics into my life asap. I 'm talking nonstop rain, neon, electro jazz or obscure techno, some street noodles around a bunch of steam vents in a claustrophic cityscape, some sex androids, futuristic Yakuza style street gangs with cool sunglasses stylized suits riding around on hoverbikes. So basically the opposite of Tucson. Except for eccentric neck tattoos. We got that down.A few nights ago, I was already walking downtown dressed in all black wearing 90s Oakleys sort of floating through the ambivalent , dirty sidewalks of 4th Avenue longing for some neon noir adventure. I put an electronic cigarette to my lips looked inside the Boxyard: a nice communal bar and food hangout with shipping container aesthetics. But I wasn 't in a hipster, Wes Anderson mood at all so I kept walking trying to find the right groove as I let out a vape cloud of despair. Then I heard a young goth girl with her two pale friends say looks like we found the Portal they walked into Ermanos Bar disappearing like bats into forgotten shadows. I had to follow the trail. So when I walked into the bar, it busy full of people trying to forget their yesterdays. I shuffled past the pandemonium and finally got the attention of a young, scruffy bartender. I took off my sunglasses and started smoking my futuristic electronic cigarette while staring him down. Sir, you can 't vape in he I 'm looking for the Portal . Without saying a word, he pointed towards a dark doorway. I nodded and put my sunglasses back on.I walked through this mysterious, mirrored entry was transported to the year 2049. Perfect. The smell of futuristic, corporate omnipresence and low life, high tech dystopianism permeated the air. The space was small yet large with its sweeping wood curves that vaulted overhead with delicate, yet loud ambient lighting. Like a giant robot 's womb where all of society 's winners and losers got swallowed up all the same. The indirect neon lights washed over the wood, steel and stone as I looked for a place to be mysterious amidst the sea of quartzite tabletops. The confined space echoing w/ conversations and a smooth future house musical soundscape.I made my way to the bar for a drink to drown my dystopian nightmares of being caught up in some corporate hacking espionage. I got the bartender 's attention by looking brooding mysterious while puffing on my futuristic electronic cigarette. Sir, you can 't vape in h How many credits for the Salty Pearl? I just pointed at the first thing I saw on the menu. It 's right there sir, $15 . Exquisite. I 'll take one. As I awaited my poison, I noticed the Goth girl her two pale friends emerge into the purple hued neon light at the bartop. She was waiting for the bartender I made a move. You look tired . What? she said. I had her hooked and took off my sunglasses. Tired of all of society 's games. You wanna puff? I extended her my electronic cigarette. No, you can 't vape in her What if I told you rules are as old as time. But rebellion is timeless? The bartender put my drink down in a glass that was shaped like a pineapple. I sipped it and asked if she knew of a good street noodle spot. I couldn 't tell if she was intrigued or confused but her two pale friends said they were going to the bathroom she tagged along with them.I let the orange bitters coalesce in my mouth alongside the rums citrus. I left 20 credits on the bartop made my way back out into the hot, dirty night air where screaming students forced me back into the modern era I realized I had to pee real bad. I couldn 't go back to Portal because cyberpunks don 't p"
Bols Genever
