The Flea's Bar

We entered a dark, rundown bar. Most the tables were overturned and the only inhabitant was a flea behind the bar. He had an eyepatch and was polishing a glass mug with a dirty rag. He glared at us with his one working eye. "Not too late to turn around." I whisper to Olivia. "What do you want?" The flea shouts. "We were told this is a good bar." Olivia says. "That so?" "Yeah." The flea shakes its head. "Alright. Take a seat where you want. I'll be with you in a moment." Olivia and I take a seat at one of the few tables that isn't flipped over. However, as soon as we sit down I notice it's wobbly. I place sugar packets under the table leg to correct the problem, but it's still wobbly. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." Olivia says. I lean in. "Would this be considered a dive bar?" Olivia shakes her head. "Rundown,yes, but not a dive bar." "What does it need to be considered a dive bar?" I ask. Olivia smiles. "Younger, hipper, people latching onto it." I lean back. The flea walks up to our table. "Drinks?" I look up at him. "I'll have a Guiness." The flea stares at me blankly. "He'll have the house special, and so will I." Olivia says. The flea nods and walks away. "You know, we're not in Kansas anymore." She reminds. "Yeah, I know." The flea comes back a moment later with two mud brown drinks in dirty mugs. I try not to wince as I take the drinks from him. "Anything else?" He asks. "Yes, we were told there is good theatre around here." Olivia says. The flea shrugs. "There might be. I don't know anything about that." "Well, would you know what fun things there is to do around here?" She asks. "Most the grasshoppers are hybernateing, so that kinda limits the amount of fun you can have, but we are having a show here later." "A show? Like a band?" "Yeah, a concert." Olivia lights up. "That would be fun." "It doesn't start till much later." "That's fine, we can wait."