There’s No Water At This Bar (Just A Bunch Of Waterslides)
“Hell no to H20”
Did you just order water at this bar? Instead of alcohol? Here, at Riptide Raccoon’s Tiki Hut? Lisa, do we serve water here at this bamboo kiosk? At this three-stool bar, adjacent to the wave pool of a family-friendly waterpark? No, ma’am! The only water at this bar is the water that drips off of a dad’s drenched swim-shirt that he only wears because he’s self-conscious about his gut. And that shirt is actually counterproductive! Almost as counterproductive as ordering water at Riptide Raccoon’s! Let’s tell him, girls!
Our bartender Lisa’s not going to serve you water. She came to Riptide Raccoon’s by way of the Twin Cities, where she’s wanted by the police for forcefully shaving a man’s head while barbacking at a biker bar. Now, I pay her twice that to pour pre-made Piña Coladas into 16-dollar souvenir raccoon mugs. And if anyone gets too rowdy, this firecracker Lisa is going to grab them by the towel they have draped around their neck and then use that towel as a makeshift whip to snap at their trunks. It’s crazy, but Riptide Raccoon’s is the type of bar where crazy girls call the shots. When they’re not outranked by the life-guard.
You hear that crazy girl shouting, “Hell no to H20”? That’s Liann, the bartender from Dayton who wants to be a singer/songwriter. She…
