It's Saturday, and I feel like trying a new bar, so I invite a friend over to The Beer Cellar (3140 Richmond, 713-528-6435). "Hey, meet me at the Cellar." 'Where is that?" she asks. "It's on Richmond by that cabaret, you know... "Oh...by the Pink Pussycat." Why is the Pink Pussycat (now called Diamond Cabaret) such a Houston landmark? I arrive before anyone else... and I mean anyone. The Cellar is completely vacant. After a few moments of debate, bartender Marcus and I agree that a Hurricane is my best bet. As he's making the drink, I grill him about the titty bar next door, which is so close I can hear Aerosmith songs through the wall. I quickly learn that having a strip club next door is no big deal. It's been a while since I was in a bar by myself; I'd forgotten how nice it is truly, one of life's most underrated treats. As the potent drink hits, a chill wraps itself around me, and I really feel like I'm in a cold, dank cellar buried underneath some dark, forgotten piece of Houston. The Cellar door opens, and my faithful companion enters. At last I'm not alone, and I order another round of Hurricanes. As if Marcus just turned on the OPEN sign outside, a group of regulars rolls in, immediately followed by another, and yet another. The bar quickly fills up, and I'm amazed that a fascinating place like this has practically been in my backyard this whole time. I order another Hurricane and ask my date if she would like to go next door. She replies with a yawn.
2 ounces Ron Carlos 151 dark rum
2 ounces Ron Castillo light rum
1 ounce grenadine
3 ounces cranberry juice
Splash of O.J.
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Pack a tall glass full of ice and pour all the ingredients in, starting with the two rums and ending with the O.J.