This dark bar? Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop. That happens to serve beer and voodoos and have absolutely nothing to do with blacksmithing. Is blacksmithing even a word?
The only working electricity in this joint is behind the bar, in the restroom and a glowing jukebox (it’s blue… I know you see it). Which adds to the charm and the history behind the joint. Abby recommended we swing by (she happens to really enjoy the story of Jean Lafitte) but this shop was just a front. This place is the oldest bar in the country – serving libations since 1772. Of course, back then they smuggled all kinds of naughty things as well.
But Lafitte was a pirate. So this be a pirate bar. Aye, thar be pirate talk among the gentlemen o’ fortune.
Ahoy! Pour me and me ol’ scallywag another grog. Then we be off to plunder some booty. Arr!
I kill myself.