Young unemployed hipster, you who've been pink-slipped from that career that promised to shoot you forever upward, there's no need to drink alone. Come to the place that promises skin and sin and delusion with the glow of its pink neon and cheerful surfer murals. The Bikini Bar beckons you into its mirthful malaise, but be aware that anything can happen within its North Beach confines. You may fall in love with one of the gorgeous barmaids who hail from Cali or Caracas. You might comfort a leathery one-eyed Cuban who cries on your shoulder, or you could just as easily duke it out with a sunburned Russian. But don't let the stone-faced macho posturing of this little joint fool you. This is just about the friendliest and most colorful place to enjoy a two-dollar Bud Light, guilt-free, after cashing that unemployment check. Located in the heart of what is known as Little Buenos Aires, you can bet you'll find a scrawny Argentine with hungry eyes to accompany you in a toast to the good old days when you had insurance. And with all the business that goes on in the bar's dark corners, you just may be on the -- ahem -- career track again.
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