by Chris Haire
OK. The Recovery Room doesn’t have a smoking patio necessarily. It’s really nothing more than a picnic table or two overlooking one of the more visually unsavory parts of Upper King. It’s not the prettiest view or perhaps the safest place in town to grab a smoke — that is if you’re a chicken shit, Croakies-wearing dock-shoe boy. For the bohos and blue collars at the Recovery Room, the fact that you can grab a smoke and gaze out at a gravel parking lot under an overpass while a steady stream of winos and drug addicts walk past makes the experience really worthwhile. The smoking area out back is pretty good, too.
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