Lost sailors of all kinds, drifting on the road have been known to find themselves here, steering their late-model Chevys Lumina into the lot, thirsty from the dust of life, hungry for a cigarette and the advertised ice-cold beer.

In broad daylight, the horizon twinkles with glittering stars - rays of sunlight bouncing off the field of satellites in the distance.

In the dark, those little pink pinpricks make the Bar look like another constellation - cotton candy on a stick among the stars.