Children's songs teach very important lessons, like "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" imploring you not to over-exert yourself on streams, and "Coming 'Round the Mountain" teaching you to never, ever do that or you'll end up having to sleep with Grandma. Named for a children's ode professing the values of communal revelry, 98 bottles.
From a Broadway dancer portrayed in A Chorus Line (seriously), his better half, and a dude who used to run Bodies (though not over the border, so stop paging him about that), 98's a warehouse-sized bi-level boozery with three main areas: a couch-loaded, base-level lounge, a casual L-shaped bar, and a live performance area called The Back Room. They're rocking four rotating taps (currently spouting Lindemans Peche Lambic and the 9% ABV Velvet Glove Imperial Stout from Iron Fist, etc.), 22 crafty bottles (Coronado Islander IPA), flight-able premium cold sakes, and wines like Simply Naked Merlot and Fat Bastard Sauvignon, who, were they to mix, would probably be called the “Please God Gouge My Eyes Out!” blend. Because just drinking is unhealthy or something, lunch's sandwich-heavy with the likes of the amply acronym'd PHBB and CBJJ (house-made pistachio honey butter, and Chambord blueberry Jackie's Jam on ciabatta) while dinner rocks crispy flatbreads, including one with seared ahi/ avo/ pickled onion/ creamy wasabi, and shareables like the four cheese/ grapes/ mustard/ smoked applewood caramel Epic Cheese Plate, which surprisingly isn't referencing Method Man's vanity "IMCHSEFRMTHWRE" tags.
Aside from entertaining the masses, The Back Room's rentable for parties/ banquets/ whatever, and is rumored to be the future home of classes for things like performance art, which is something you'll have to put on in front of your parents to get out of having to sleep with Grandma when she comes.