Shanley Saves Kansas City Happy Hour Cash

Our second favorite of all the Kansas City foodies offers a way for locals to save a few bucks while enjoying cocktail specials in posh locations. Double bonus, we're pretty sure hottie Shanley has never had to pay for a drink in her life so her post probably did require quite a bit of research: 5 Classy KC Happy Hours That Won't Cost A Fortune | Out to Eat

Comments

  1. Not a bad list, but it's always happy hour at QT!!!

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  2. Love me some beard clipping's in my happy hour drink. Try the gin poured into the glass over a football shaped ice cube with an organic pickle and a downtown rooftop raised pepper.

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  3. I like to sit there waiting for Mr. KC Right to walk up and say. Hello there little lady. Want to see my pecs? My abs? Who's your girlfriend?

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  4. I quit going to happy hours. Too many dumb blondes from Johnson County.

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  5. So, there I was on Rockhill, hanging out at a local watering hole showing off my new Grille, having just finished up at the dentist. In walks this tall blonde who I'll later learn goes by the name Shanley.

    As fate, and a lack of open chairs, would have it, she sits down next to me and begins chatting me up. Well, I'm well on my way to sampling the various Happy Hour offerings when she starts in with the questions.

    "Ever hear of Bluestem?" she inquires. My mind immediately starts racing, WTF, is this woman a botanist? I blurt out something about it having extremely deep roots and she seems pleased at my take on the topic. I smile and laugh along with her.

    "What about CaVa?" she asks. Oh, yeah, I've had several cavities I report, pointing to my mouth, thanks for noticing. Geez! I thought we started off so well, but now she's going to point out my flaws? "I love the duck fat"...something or other, she continues. Hey lady!
    I may carry around a few extra pounds, but I don't appreciate a tall trim blonde making fun of me for it. I give her a smirk, and begin searching the room for another spot to move to.

    Apparently emboldened by my deflated demeanor, she goes in for the kill. "Ever hear of Aixois?" she asks while wrinkling her nose. Wow! This is now too much, I'm thinking. Implying I have B.O., she wants to know if I'm familiar with deodorants and body sprays. As I rise to get up and move elsewhere, she's mumbling something about my frog legs and muscles. I give a half-wave and pretend to take a cell call as I walk away. The nerve of some people.




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  6. ^^^ L.O.FUCKING. L!

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