…a place called Plan B where good ideas go to get slightly worse?
Yeah, neither have we. But pull up a stool anyway.
You’ve probably noticed the coasters by now. The ones scattered across the bar carrying little reminders that life rarely goes to plan, nights definitely escalate, and sometimes the best stories start with the words:
“So… we ended up at Plan B.”
That’s kind of the point.
Because Plan B has never really been about perfect nights, sensible decisions, or pretending anyone came here for “just one drink”. It’s about the stories. The accidental big nights. The mates who stayed too long. The burgers ordered when no one was technically hungry. The beers that turned into “one more” four times in a row.
The coasters? Think of them as little warnings. Or encouragement. Depends how your night’s going.
So next time you’re holding a drink and reading one, just remember:
Nobody remembers the nights that went exactly to plan.
