Jarrod and I went to a favorite bar last night and sadly came to the conclusion that it will be closing soon.Known as one of the only spots in Houston willing to pay the high tax for smokers to light up indoors, the bar has a large, impressive humidor in the center. As the bar began to slide, cigarette smokers began to replace cigar smokers. Thin, well-bred women, the AKC of dog breeds type women, were replaced with the stretched and dyed, nipped and tucked type women who lure men with exposed seams of skin instead of perfectly coiffed bobs. It even started showing sports games last year. They didn’t seem to mind as basketball seeking, Fubu and ECHO sweater wearing men replaced the buttoned up professionals. The beautiful waitresses began to fade, too. Like moths to a brighter light, they’re gone. Last night there was just one, not beautiful, wearing glasses with her hair pulled back in a bun that she probably tied up while still wet from the shower. The quick one she grabbed while rushing to get changed from her other job. At a waffle restaurant. The old waitresses were never rushed. They never had another job, or a life. The bar was just that. A perfect picture where men ruled and women were problem-free. The final nail in this Mantopia’s coffin was the smoking ban. A breast cancer clinic moved in upstairs and who-knows-what moved in next door. The property management made the decision to revoke the bar’s privilege to smoke indoors or out. There are a lot of bars in Houston. There are few things that make them special. But this one was a place where young unimportant men could spend a little more than they could afford and purchase a cigar and whiskey and feel successful, important, elite for a short while. But now that’s over and the bar, Jarrod and I decided, will continue to slide.