STANding in the Underworld.. with slugs

Back to reality - whup, there goes gravity! Yup, we fell straight into the trap... Stan's does not at all rhyme with Dan's - nor does it allow alarmingly large liquor drinks with mixers that make a thimble's worth look generous - nor does it exist in the underground (i.e. the netherworld). Actually, this is all a big lie. Stan's downtown basement provided a unique venue for springtime re-uniting, first-time gang-out-ers, and a some friggin' tall-ass glasses of gin.

Team Gang Out was a bit divided (due to awesomeness) between a few parts of the bar. Much of this dispersion had to do with aggressive waiters who were very intent on us ordering the special not-so specials. If you thought not-so specials were special, you should try slugging with a NoVA slugger who, much to her excitement, finds that her seemingly not-so special warming of the passenger seat (even if silent until called upon per slugging protocol) allows someone to abide by the law, get to work on time, and save some friggin' Carbon, too.

Word. None other than the Flaming Lips were tamed by none other than a greasy bag of fries from Five Guys. Join us next week for a whole new month of awesomeness that some have dubbed, "Month of Bess."