Nothing good lasts forever. I have to remind myself of that when I think back on all the times we shared together. It is rare to have found a place so consistently amazing. You were taken from us too soon. You were there with cheap wells after broken hearts and with $1 Jell-O shots after finals.

You were close to my $400/month apartment and even closer to my heart. You accepted us all for who we were. T-shirts and cutoffs or cocktail dresses, all were welcome within your dive-bar embrace. From attire to musical taste, you had a place for everyone. Your jukebox of Third Eye Blind and J. Geils Band played directly to our souls.

You never judged. You were there for me during my “Captain and 7” phase and never criticized as I sipped on that heinous concoction. You taught us the importance of fine dining. We are all better food connoisseurs for that jalapeño popcorn vending machine. You challenged all your patrons to achieve more. Many a customer broke a mental sweat in a game of strategy at the pool or shuffleboard tables.

You had a style and grace that few have rivaled. Being within your four walls was reminiscent of being inside the Brady Bunch house. Those orange ‘70s curtains and stained glass windowpanes call to mind a simple and more loving time in history.

I had my suspicions that you were ailing but my denial was strong. When you were closed for a remodel I grew concerned. I wrote those changes off as someone in need of TLC and a new lease on life in their older years. Unfortunately, your new lease was too much for you to bear.

Coping with this loss has been difficult for all of us. You touched so many lives and we remember you fondly on Fridays. Fancier new bars will come and go. Those of us in need a relaxing place to call home and to call a cab from, will always regard you as number one.

In loving memory of the Qui Lounge. Fort Worth, TX.