"Nothing sends us digging into a hole of embarrassment faster than memories of Sandbar. It’s the Murphy’s Law of bars—where the thud of grown men falling off chairs competes with a lot of woo-ing. This is where you go to drink migraine-inducing cocktails named after hurricane categories. If you’re over the age of 25, we know we’re not selling you on this place—and we’re honestly not trying to. But we love that it’s still here for a new generation of 22-year-olds to collect their own immensely cringey memories." - virginia otazo