Before The Republican was too fucking cool to hang around with us, The Photographer and I joined her at Utopia for tapas and drinks. For Prizzo Skeezy readers not located in Atlanta, tapas is Spanish for rip off. Since I do not like dropping thirty dollars and leaving hungry, I did not sample the food. Unlike the Studio Grille, Utopia had ambiance out the motherfucking trapdoor. There was so much high design ambiance, that by the time I left I was intimate with my feminine side, not just in touch with it.
Nothing infuriates me more than douchebag establishments that produce Martini lists. There is no such thing as a fucking Martini list, because a Martini is gin, vermouth, and a twist. Period. Everything else falls under the rubric of cocktail. Unfortunately, marketing fucktards are convinced that the magic word Martini sells substantially more overpriced sickly sweet concoctions than the more pedestrian word cocktail. Goddamn wankers. In protest, I drank beer, which tasted perfectly fine. My companions enjoyed their cocktails.
Despite the dip shit Martini list and lack of real food, I had a good time at Utopia. For people who like techno music, Utopia is recommended.