Underground at the Bar

I was at the Blue Cat Brew Pub in Rock Island. I noticed some people going into this secret entry that led them behind walls. I followed them down a corridor and into what amounted to an old time cellar that was divided down the middle by open, running water in some sort of rudimentary drainage system, made of bricks. Along with unknown people (presumably friends), we drank our beers down there until anxiety reached a point that told us it was not okay to be down there any longer. There were two ways out and one opening was only as big as a breadbox. I somehow fit through it with no problems and made my way back to the main bar only to get reprimanded for going down there by the bartender. He promptly closed the doors and closed the bar. I was then standing on a city street that I didn't recognize and wasn't remotely like the ones in Rock Island, but more New York City.