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There ain't no such thing as a free lunch You know what I hate? False advertising. The car dealer who blasts onto my TV shouting that I can buy a brand new sports car for $200 down and $200 per month, but when I go down there to pick up my new ride, it turns out I need a credit rating worthy of Jesus himself or it's no deal. Sports drinks that claim to make you a better athlete, exercise equipment that promises you a Hollywood body by the end of the month, and those lotions that will supposedly make you "stay up" all night and into the next day-they're all bunk! But apparently these "exaggerated claims" (i.e., outright lies) are not illegal. With some fine print here and a disclaimer there, companies can advertise just about anything no matter how misleading. I'm still waiting for the qualifier, "Red Bull does not actually give you wings and is not an acceptable substitute for a parachute while skydiving." Unfortunately, between the filthy lawyers, the profit-hoarding executives and the soulless marketing directors, I doubt we'll see honest ads any time soon. At least Catacombs, the bar beneath the Hotel Boulderado, is honest about its advertised specials. If you order a $1 well drink or $2 call drink, that's what you get-it'll contain exactly one shot of booze, no more, no less. The $2.50 Long Islands will have all the liquors the recipe demands-if in measured doses. And they offer $2 microbrews and $1 Budweiser drafts for the beer lovers. These, and other deep-discount specials, have been packing 'em in for quite a while. One semi-regular summed up the specials' appeal with this bit of wisdom: "With dollar drafts, my friends are more likely to buy me rounds." Another great reason to check out Catacombs is that, with its burgundy leather upholstered booths, stained glass and dark wood tables, it is a reasonable approximation of The Regal Beagle from "Three's Company." And who of us hasn't wanted to pretend that we were Jack, Janet, one of the Chrissies-or even Larry-just for one night? I mean, other than me. Respond: letters@boulderweekly.com
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