We've all heard of cop bars and gay bars and even newspaper bars, the haven of ink-stained wretches. But never before has anyone realized there's a bar where angels get to unwind and be themselves. It's only at Gabriel's where angels get to let down their hair and engage in that time-honored tradition of griping about the job.
As we discover when a reporter's car breaks down and he seeks shelter in the bar at the bottom of a freeway off-ramp, being an angel isn't all puffy clouds and harp recitals. The problem, it seems, is that each angel has a certain area of human endeavor to oversee, everything from fine arts to food and beverages, from traveling to technology.
Having to constantly deal with human beings is bad enough, but what makes it even worse is that they can't quit and sign on with another outfit.and they certainly can't tell the boss to take the job and shove it!