ALBERTO GONZALEZ
Staff Scallywag
The great flood has hit Fredonia and, like a well-needed rain on a crop, it has brought rejuvenation through the downtown area.
As many homeowners on Canadaway had flood damage on the brain, one business owner saw a rare and free opportunity to improve their business.
Sunny’s was in the thick of the flood, which has actually done more good than harm. Forty plus years of shame and stains has been washed away from Sunny’s, actually improving the quality of a visit to the infamous spot downtown. Reports of a musty smell mixed with mold are welcomed with open arms by the regular patrons of what is normally a sticky, hot jungle-like environment.
Many regulars were asked about the impacts of the flood on the overall atmosphere of the establishment. One individual in particular asked to remain unnamed but has assured us that they have been frequenting the ol’ watering hole for 20 plus years.
He explained to us that Sunny’s tends to have a really cyclical business structure of getting shut down from too many liquor violations, coming under “new management” and having nothing about it change at all. He said that the new atmosphere has an “aroma” reminiscent to his mother’s dirt basement he would drink in on those nights during the shutdown phase of the cycle.
Everyone else we interviewed all shared the same common theme: they don’t give a shit about what surrounds them. As long as
Sunny’s bar and dance floor are still intact as well as functioning, they are happy. While taking statements, we uncovered a startling trend: over half of those we asked cannot actually remember anything specific enough about the interior of the place to convince anyone that they have actually been inside, let alone spend every weekend there.
This might shed some light in the business model of the ever aging husk of real estate that was once referred to unsarcastically as ‘a nice, clean bar’ by the majority of those that came for a drink.
The core of the ever-stable business seems to be reliant on college students’ inability to be conscious of anything beyond two feet in any direction at the end of a long night of drinking. As long as you keep their ears full of half-decent music interlaced with the all too frequent throwback songs tied to the DJ’s peak years in highschool long ago, and flash enough multicolored lights into their faces, the crowd at Sunny’s doesn’t know if they are in Sunny’s or in the middle of a club in NYC in 2006 (seriously must have been a great year for the DJ).
Aside from the DJ needing a flood on his hard drive of 2000s hits, it seems that even the most devastating of natural events can’t slow the almost eternal juggernaut that is Sunny’s.