For freedom-loving Americans, the day the fascists on Houston's City Council passed the smoking ban in bars was a shot to the heart. Sure, sometimes stale nicotine-filled air can be a bummer, but what's even more of a bummer is when you have a crappy day and just want to go knock back some liquid poison and chase it with smoky poison. Or when you and your friends get into a deep philosophical conversation about why John Bonham was vastly superior to Neil Peart – you don't want to have to interrupt a key point by stepping outside to smoke. It's a real big pain in the ass. Fortunately, the Marquis resides in West University, outside of the totalitarian regime's reach, so you can sit there in the orange 1970s garage-sale chairs and drink and smoke to your heart's content, while listening to tunes on the stellar jukebox. We're pretty sure this is what heaven's like.