Meet Me Upstairs

Recently a few friends and I have been trying desperately to think of ways to escape the black hole in which we live. I mean, yes, we can get out pretty easily. We could go anywhere in the world, right? Right. But we want to make the cost of leaving far outweigh staying in our humble little town. We don't want to settle for less than we currently have, which is quite great...most of the time.

After much brainstorming and consideration, we have decided that we are going to move to New York City, Hawaii (anywhere), or Southern California. Why you ask? We are going to open a bar. It will be called "Meet Me Upstairs" and there will be no stairs. We like it. We like it so much that we have, quite literally, signed our names in blood that we are going to do this; trying to convince us that it's not a good idea will not work. We've past the point of rationality about this subject, trust me.

We've decided that while having a bar will be fun, entertaining, and hopefully somewhat profitable, we also want "day time"/real? jobs. During the day, Meet Me Upstairs will turn into what we haven't named yet but will be the home to our very own grilled cheese cafe. A dream come true in my world, if I do say so myself. "Meet Me Upstairs" will also house a beauty salon (we're still looking for a beautician if anyone is interested), a tattoo parlor and a t-shirt shop. We're gonna be busy, busy, busy.

Wish us luck...not that we need it since we're all pretty freaking amazing.

Oh, and the "set" time frame for this to happen is within three years. We figure we'll all get our degrees so that people can come bull shit with us all day long about intellectual things. We'll see...

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