Super-Styling at Sky Bar

2007 > Lebanon

The bold, beautiful Beiruti binge on the best

big style
Ali, Me, Moshen
big style
Ben and Megan
the player working it
Ben and friends
It’s a Friday night in the Paris of the Middle East, and the beauties of Beirut are out in force at the newest hipster hangout; Sky Bar.

Topping an oceanside building, the bar is an open-air rooftop patio of well dressed Middle Eastern jet-set players. Clock-stopping hot women stun the mind with tight skirts and high heels, perched delicately on bar stools, drink in hand. Hot hunks of man drape their gym-chiseled forms over bar tops, flexing as they hydrate.

And then there is my crew:

  • Ben, a tall Australian in need of a tan,
  • Megan, a quick & dry wit from Wales,
  • Ali, an easy-going Lebanese, and
  • Mohsen, a hip Beiruti.

While Ben and I celebrated the first Lebanese bartender who could make a vodka gimlet, Megan experimented with a series of color-themed drinks, and both Ali and Moshen kept cool and sober.

But do not confuse refreshments with entertainment. Moshen was quick with the fun and the camera, keeping all of us in high spirits and high jinx. Ali held his own with stories of strange shipments he supervises that had me fascinated with his work. And I was more laughed at than laughed with as the night and my inebriation progressed.

Still, I do recommend Sky Bar to those looking for a Beirut part night for more than just a crazy crew of geeks out on the town.

From my fuzzy memory, I recall three hotties from America who tried to gate crash with us, but turned away because they didn’t have the quick wit to say they were the UN, like Ben, Megan, and I did. Later on, at least two made it in, with one stuck outside, deemed too young by the beefy doorman.

Then there was the ex-Navy guy who didn’t want his photo taken, but was all about being taken by a sexy Beiruti. Also, there were several hotties of various backgrounds that swirled around us, with at least one falling to Ben’s Jedi mind trick long enough to give him her number.

I do remember the ride home in Ali’s swank red Jeep. Or at least the part where we all agreed that super-styling at Sky Bar rocked out our Mediterranean Friday night.


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