Lynne Bolton
Google
Last night we met with friends to check out Margaritaville’s rooftop bar. We are local San Diego urbanites, and my husband had wanted to see what the hype was about.
The first thing we did was sit in a grouping of aiderondack chairs, but we saw no servers. We moved to another, more comfortable grouping of seats, and a server came over to tell us that if you sat in these seats, you had to go order at the bar. She said if we had stayed in the other seats, she could have served us. Ok, fine.
Then the band, who had been between songs, began to play some Steely Dan song. SO LOUDLY that we had to shout across the table to be heard. We make our way to the bar, where we ask for a drink menu. We settle on $16 rum drink (Coco something)that was very pretty, but turned out to be about 85% ice. So now I’m feeling like this place is an overrated tourist trap with a meh view, at best.
Then a drunk young girl with a winged backpack(it was during ComicCon) comes up to us and starts telling us to get up and dance. She was quite persistent, so the second time she came over, I firmly stated that we were here to relax with friends and to please leave us in peace. She mumbled something about my being mean, but by that time I was completely fed up with this place. As we were leaving, I saw a guy with a blue and gold macaw 🦜 on his shoulder, which made me smile… the ONE bright spot of the evening.