This used to be my spot until tonight. I went for the midnight happy hour and was completely ignored by the sad sack of a bartender who didn't even look my way. He circled his habitat with a crooked back permanently bent at a 30 degree angle from lack of balls or intuition. The bastard had tits for brains. big fat ones that left little room for intelligence. Gravity is heavy for that hapless heathen. I almost got mad, but then realized he has to live that way forever. A sucker. So we left and went to B-dubs instead and had a good meal.
After midnight PT's reminded me of a saloon from Star Wars: full of misfits who are unable to wrap a belt through all the loops, or figure out what clothes to wear in public so they dress in table cloths and shower curtains.
I lived in Las Vegas for damn near 9 years now and never saw such a low-life scum-sucking bartender than the eunuch serving drinks at PT's tonight. What sort of man hunches like a hound and doesn't even ask someone what they would like to drink?? Give that mutt a towel and send him to a Terrible's gas station.