If some crazed dictator or terrorist ever decides to drop the big one on us, Mimi's is the only bar in St. Louis ready for the day of reckoning. The place is hidden in the back of a strip-mall parking lot, downstairs in the windowless basement below a pharmacy. Fueled by $1.25 frosty mugs of Busch and 50-cent Jell-O shots, the atmosphere belies the bomb shelter-like location. There are two pool tables and two steel-tipped dart boards. They book live music on the weekends, and in the afternoon, the jukebox plays a steady stream of '80s classics. They serve the sort of bar food that requires a roll of paper towels at each table: burly burgers, housemade pizza and one-pound servings of fiery hot wings. God forbid the atomic bomb is ever used again, but in the event that it is, Mimi's is the booze-filled bunker where you want to spend your nuclear winter.
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