There's something thrilling about hanging out in a bar where you don't belong. As if the French Minister of Culture is going to bust in at any time, cuff your hands behind your back and drag you to impostor's prison. You do not belong at Sandrina's, not unless you're a shifty-eyed, chain-smoking old-timer. Sure, no one's going to arrest you if you show up, but Sandrina's is nonetheless a blast because they actually do make it sort of difficult to hang out there. It's only open Wednesday through Saturday nights, tank tops are not permitted, and they only accept cash. They have a television set, but it's only on for the occasional baseball or football game. But it's all worth it for perks like a rock-solid jukebox that features eleven songs for a buck, and cheap drinks. It's exactly the kind of David Lynch atmosphere that modern troublemakers such as yourself are looking for come 1:35 a.m.
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