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| - We drove in from California. The wife and I played pass the buck for eight hours in the car, neither one of us making a decision on where to eat when we checked into our downtown hotel at 9:00 at night. Stuff was real, people were hangry. My wife said she gave me a list (which she didn't), but she would give it to me again. Me? I didn't come downtown to eat - I came downtown to drink - cheap! And, to live what Vegas once was.
So, as we meander hangrily down Fremont, my wife pulls her list out again (not really again). Her first name - Atomic Café. To which I respond - you mean that local dive bar Atomic Liquors? F yeah - let's go. (which proves she didn't give me her list - I have wanted to come here for years).
The best part of Atomic? We had dinner with friends that live in Vegas the next night, and they had never been here. Yeah - partying like the locals don't.
Atomic has two parts - the original liquor store/bar, which, legend has it, is a historical site, and so they could not put in a kitchen. Instead, they put the kitchen in the historic garage next door. Dude - chicken and waffles (i.e. hot wings wrapped in a pepperoni pizza waffles). Seriously, it was weird, but in a good way. It's like that hot chick in college who wanted to use handcuffs on her ankles, which is weird, but when it's all done- you really liked it, and kind of want to do it again.
Look, I could keep going - classy drinks, huge selection, reasonable prices, but I am trying to figure out how to cook a pizza in my waffle iron while my ankles are handcuffed, so I gotta go.
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