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Every time the weekend approaches, masses of misfits are faced with the only real question: is it Saturday? That translated means: which tools and places do we want to take advantage of to dazzle our minds and forget about our lives? An ancient dilemma dividing the masses into two opposing lines:  **Pubs People** vs. **Night Club Visitors**. Here are the differences:

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1. The Saturday evening approach radically changes. For the brewery type is a serene defeat announced already on Thursday, before the diabolic weekly rally begins again. The nightclub type, however, always cultivates hope, as early as Monday morning, of the right night to avenge the wrong doing of the week. No matter what, he’s coming out of it defeated.

2. At the pub you are a hunting of a blonde, praying that an old scurvy host did not use his spit to clean the jug. In a disco, when you're looking for a mojito, you're relaxed because you know that with spit they will make you pay 30% more.

3. The brewery evokes the home's cozy air, a safe harbor, but with more of that cirrhosis feel. The disco, cozy as a prison cell, but a quick glimpse at the prices and the cirrhosis fade away.

4. Who attends the brewery is a loyal customers who will hardly betray this place, as in sentimentalism. Those who hang out at the disco, on the other hand, have much more volatile tastes.

5. The pub is basically masculine, so it is not the best habitat to try. The nightclub instead raises females, but you will not be able to do it anyway, so do you care?

6. If there were any girls there and you want to get lucky, in the brewery you can surprise them quoting Bukowski, while sipping a Guinness. At the disco, you can dance and hope you haven’t left your decency in the other pants.

7. The brewery music ranges from nostalgic Irish ballads to the metal. The nightclub can range from nostalgic hit from the 90's to the worse techno, but the most eminent author who evokes you remains Mo-Do with Eins Zwei Polizei.

8. In the brewery there are darts and pool table. In the nightclub you are making your way in and out with your elbows.

9. The tables of a brewery are full of your brothers in arms, sentimental or not, a quick gaze or a nod of understanding is sufficient to know the next beer. At same at the disco, but the recognition mark is the slim fit shirts.

10. The prince of each brewery is the old drunkard attached to the counter. At the disco a fashion victim , posing as 18 years old, is hit by convulsion.

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