Type: Neighborhood
Class: Dive

This South End establishment has a high end name but a very low end feel. It is filled with South End locals and lots of strange kitsch on the walls. People seemed to be having a normal day of it. A couple of guys were sitting at the bar with beers watching the game. A couple of families or groups of friends sat chatting in the dining area. The long bar had a base of rock and mortar and hanging high above it was a line of airline oxygen masks.

Our drink was weak, $3.25 and sponsored by Red who was our tour guide on what was left of the South End. There was a very dineresque looking menu and I suspect that they make very good use of their deep fat fryer. This late lunch crowd did have some tasty looking food on their plates, but it was batter friend chicken, fries, and the like.

Hanging on the walls was the most bizarre assortment of knickknacks under “glass.” There was an evil looking clown, a crash test dummy, a pair of shoes, and an old Mickey Mouse. I have no idea as to what the significance of any of it was, but it all looked like it was important to somebody. Off to the side when you walk in a separate room filled with amusements. They were all a bit older, but there were two pool tables, some video games and what not.

Anyhow, there is no reason to make the trip out here to Planet Georgetown but it seems friendly enough if you are a local. I recommend sticking to beer or making friends with the bartender since the mixed drinks were fairly weak, even for $3.25. I give Planet Georgetown 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Lounge
Class: Dive

This simple Mexican restaurant’s lounge was not being used this Saturday afternoon and we were hungry so we just sat in the main restaurant portion. This restaurant has no real décor worth noting except for 3 Budweiser bottles wearing Sombreros. They were inflatable and tacky but they would look great next to the Bud bottle with the frog.

The drink was decent and once again sponsored by Red (thanks Red.) The big winner here though was the food. I ordered a burrito and what I got was a ‘Big Ass Burrito” that was excellent. This Burrito would totally kick the ass of the food at Tarasco. But then again, it is not surprising that something from the South End would be rougher and tougher than something from Ballard.

The defining moment of this bar was when Jason spilled his drink. He was gesturing wildly and caught the big red straw placed in his drink. Due to its large size it just took the glass over spilling the contents across the table top. I applauded and then watched Jason scrape his drink into his glass. This was not a big deal until he DRANK IT!!! My god man. I am a big fan of the 3 second rule, but even that has its limits. I mean, c’mon. I guess it is booze and booze kills germs, but … Well, there is nothing that can be done about it.

I liked the food here, but once again, there is not a lot of reason to come out here. The waitress was very friendly and I could definitely see them having a decent local crowd. I give them 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5. Oh, I also just remembered that this place was located right across the street from T-21, but we had no idea because it was dark out. Funny how good but strange things often come in pairs or triplets.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

This restaurant is very clean and fairly uninteresting. Everything is basically white, light pine or paper. My whiskey and coke tasted funny. How was it funny? I don’t really know. I just wrote down “funny.” There was no accompanying description, so we will just have to settle on “funny.”

When we came in, it was obvious they were not ready to serve us quite yet. She handed me a menu in order to try to stall us until they were ready to get back to us. Jason tried to tell her we were only there for drinks. I made the mistake of taking the menu to be nice. I would do this a lot in the later portions of this quest and it only gets me in trouble (taking a menu to be nice.) The best part was when she handed me the menu to see if there was “something tasty to eat.” On the menu.

The place was uninteresting, had a built in nap time for the staff (they are closed from 3 to 5), was priced at $4 and was sponsored by Red. I have no love for the drinks here and I would recommend giving them a miss. I give them 1 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Lounge
Class: Average

Back in the day, there was a little restaurant called the Aurora Family Restaurant that served a kick ass breakfast and hosted AA meetings. It was a little divey, but I liked it. Then one day I drove past it and the name had been changed and there was a cocktails sign in the window. I was concerned.

It was very obvious upon walking in, that the restaurant portion had not been heavily modified. We confirmed this with Cubby, the bartender. The new owners had kept the old menu and staff so that you can still get the same kick ass food. They turned the old extra dining area into a bar. There is not much different about this area in terms of décor, but it is still much nicer than it used to be. There is now a small dance floor and native American art on the walls.

Jason pointed out that it was now an Indian Bar, much as the previous incarnations of Traveler’s was. Cubby said that they get a lot of regulars down from Alaska and the northern part of the state as they were passing through or in town for a couple of days. Back in “the day” the Aurora Family Restaurant hosted the AA meetings in this room (now that’s coincery.) Now it is a bar. They tried to host the meetings but it didn't work out, so AA lost.

The lounge is definitely upscaled from the Aurora Family Restaurant, but it is still really just a neighborhood bar. We waited for the owner to come over to talk to us, but he never did, so we left. I give Traveler’s 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

Patti Summers’ Restaurant was opened by a pair of failed musicians who must have figured the only way to get work was going to be by opening a place where they could perform. They may have been successful once, but the impression that I get from a friend of mine, is that those days are gone. Now the restaurant only stays open through sheer force of will and the Rock shows that they host on Saturday nights.

We went in on a Sunday afternoon and they are not usually open then. They were open special for the UW Jazz band and we got there early enough that there was no cover. “If you’re just here for a drink then you should probably have it quickly before the cover starts.” It seems chintzy to charge cover to people who are there before cover kicks in. I thought that was the point of having a time pre-cover to reward those people who were drinking more and for longer.

There were all sorts of weird little signs that were interesting, but they were terribly friendly. They said things like:
“A double costs double. You better believe it”
“No re-fills on soft drinks”
“Cash Only”

There were lots of one dollar bills stapled above the bar. Each one said something different and they would stay up as long as they felt like it, or until a better dollar bill (or more than a dollar) was offered up to take its place.

The bartender was also the co-owner and husband to Patti Summers. He was not very friendly, but I insisted of talking to him a whole bunch for some reason. I think he just seemed lonely to me. Jason had started to write me a note to tell me to shut the fuck up when I decided to start jotting notes in my notepad. Wolf was with us and he did not like the guy either.

This little dingy downstairs manages to cling to being, but for no good reason. Give this place a skip, since the main times there are no cover are when Patti is singing. I don’t know if she is any good, but I suspect … well, why don’t I just keep what I suspect in this case to myself. Maybe someone who has actually heard her can post a comment to that affect. The drink was weak, $4 and there is a $3 minimum on drink orders so Wolf’s softdrink was $3. I give Patti Summers’ Restaurant 1 Martini Glass stapled above the bar out of 5.

-wOOt

In on of the stranger moments of this quest, it turned out that a pair of our long time readers, both of them bartenders, are my next door neighbors. One of them, Chris, works up at the Tin Hat with Maia, and the other, his girlfriend Carrie (sp?) works at Swannie's. It's a bar upstairs, just a kind of small sports bar sort of place, with a rather large heavy wood table that's been heavily carved into over the years in the middle of the place. Downstairs, however, is the Comedy Underground.

We had stopped by with Wolf and Sean to see if Carrie was working, but she was downstairs in the club. There's a cover for that, of course, and a pretty high one for the guy who was performing that night, Doug something-with-an-S, who apparently is going to be the new host of the Man Show, or at least so he claimed. Whatever the case, he was damn funny, and damn drunk, so it seems like a good match, the Man Show and him.

Anyway, we didn't want to pay something like 15 bucks for a drink in the comedy club, so we might have just stayed upstairs except that Sean just went ahead and dove into the club, looked for Carrie, said we were there to get our drink, and she got us in. The show was half over but still, it was awful cool to get in and see the guy go. We sat in the back where there were a few empty seats, and Chris up against the back wall. He didn't see us in the dark, but I saw him, and figured we'd say hi after the show.

Carrie got us our drinks, which weren't too expensive and were pretty good, and we sat in the dark and busted guts at many of the jokes. He was pretty dirty, and funniest when dirtiest.

When it was over and the lights came on, we said hi to Chris, got to actually say hi to Carrie, mingled for a minute and then had to head out. There was another bar to hit, and the night wasn't getting any younger.

Wolf picked up the sponsorship, so many thanks to him, and many thanks again to Carrie for getting us into the show.

It may be noticed that Bridgit isn't coming out with us much anymore, but that doesn't mean she's not still part of the quest. No, she still takes an active roll, usually every Friday, when we sit in the break room and look over a copy of the Stranger, and Bridgit finds us more bars. Every week, it's one or two bars, or bars we didn't think we could go to without cover that she notices have a no cover night. Bonzai had just opened, and Bridgit spotted them right away.

So after leaving Swannie's, we headed over to Banzai, just north of Pioneer Square. It's a narrow kind of space, but deep, and it had a nice look to it. The bar had bottles highlighted in round alcoves, and there were anime paintings on the walls, always a good sign. The tables had stylish little appetizer/sushi plates on them, which looked very nice.

We ordered drinks from our waitress, Melissa, who was, I'm told, quite the looker (it's all abstract, but she was attractive, yes.) She brought the pretty tasty drinks, but before that I tried to hit the bathroom. Which wasn't happening. Because there's one men's and one lady's, and the men's was occupied. For a long time. By a couple, it turned out. Our opinions differ as to whether they were having sex, or whether she was puking (I think the latter, because I kept hearing the towel machine working) but one way or another, it was a long wait. Eventually, I just used the women's room, which was also a solo, just like the men's, so I wasn't barging in on anyone. The bathrooms were also identified by manga paintings.

Anyway, back to the drinks. Melissa got told about the quest, because the place was new, she was hot, etc. She seemed interested, which we like, and I think she gave us happy hour prices on our wells, which we like. The menu of the place looked interesting (we really want to order Japanese nachos, because we can't figure out what they are) and the food we saw from those who had ordered just prior to our arrival (the kitchen had just closed for the night) looked good. Which we also like.

So pretty much, for a place that had been open for a week, it all looked really good and well put together. Definitely deserving of a revisit.

Wolf got the sponsorship, and we called it a night.

It's unclear, but apparently the Flame has ceased to be the Flame, although it's still there. There's some new bar there, perhaps, but we'll have to investigate to be sure. I think it's a repeat of the .Ing experience, in which case we have to redrink there. Oh, well.

And in the paper this week, although it happened nearly two months ago, the Meridian Restaurant apparently closed about New Year's. Which was a few weeks after we were there, and after our reviews for it had appeared. I know some places are desperately waiting for our reviews and all that, but there's no reason to close if it doesn't go the way you want it to. Really...

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

This 3rd floor restaurant has a pretty good view of the sound, but it is ultimately uninteresting. It is a fairly basic eating establishment within Pike Place market. If you are there for drinks or ambience, skip it. The weirdest part of the view were the seagulls that roost in the window overhangs. They continually dive bombed off an unseen ledge and then fluttered back up to their roost. It was both interesting and annoying, depending on whether I was staring off into space or not.

Wolf picked up the sponsorship of these weak drinks. The décor was green and the 3rd floor lacked any style whatsoever (the bathrooms were up there.) The staff was young, hip, and bored as hell. They did not want to be there either. I give Lowell’s 1 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

This Italian restaurant is located in the Center House, which makes it tourist central. The staff were young and good-natured. We sidled up to the bar and sat right next to the waitress station. I proceeded to eavesdrop on their conversations. At one point they were taking bets on something that had to do with marijuana and I wanted to know what. It turned out that one of the staff smelled pot in the bathroom and they were taking bets on who in the restaurant was smoking in the boys room. Their bet was on one of two hicks sitting in the bar area drinking beer and ordering bar food.

The drink was on the weak side, but that was ok since I spilled it across the bar. I did not have the opportunity to push the drink into my glass as Jason did because there was a high lip on the bar that prevented me from doing so. Wolf, our kind sponsor, was kind enough to pick up my 2nd drink, although I felt there was enough left in my glass to constitute finishing it. We had some sort of antipasto plate that was excellent.

Several large Italian style pillars rose up in the restaurant, but they were painted with various sport activities. It was somewhat weird. Car racing was playing on ESPN2 in the background. I like the staff, but the restaurant itself was bland. I give them 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Lounge
Class: Average

This Greek place down by Sears and the Home Despot is supposed to have an amazing breakfast. Jeff always used to meet his work buddies down here for killer meals early in the morning. At night, I am afraid, it lacks a certain something. It is now a respite for older locals with nowhere better to be to watch the game, have a drink, and chat with the friendly owner.

My drink was strong, $3.25, and picked up by Jeff. We sat at the crook of the long bar with the vinyl cushion. The décor is straight out of the 70s but for some reason they also have Bud bottles with sombreros. The booths and tables were all in reasonably good condition, but the selections of browns, panelling, and oranges, just … hurt. There must have been a big Mexican Bud push as of late.

The place is divey but clean. It sure beats going to the Starbucks in the Sears plaza over there. I give them 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

And bar number 500 rolls around. For those keeping track, the hundreds have been the Ballroom, the Garage, Leilani Lanes, West Seattle Bowl, and now, last, Chop Suey. It was Bridgit's keen eyes that spotted their cover-free night on Monday, and it was then and there decided that it would be the spot.

We arrived, Wolf and I, and Jim was the only one there before us, and Jake, who has now been to two of the hundreds and no other bars but the one just after this one. Brandon arrived a moment later, and Phil was to be arriving in theory a bit after that. There was some hesitation over awarding the sponsorship, because Brandon had kind of said Phil could have it, while I was just assuming from the first that Wolf was going to get it. And in the end, because he was there, Wolf did get it.

Anyway, about Chop Suey. It's a big empty space with a few tables in secluded areas, and a stage where the bands perform. The bands on this night were three, but we only heard the first, and they were pretty damn polished because I thought for a while they were recorded. However, they also weren't memorable, because I can't even say what their music was. Part of that was that we weren't in the main area. Instead, we sat in the back (really, front, but nevermind) lounge area, with a bunch of tables and a bench seat built all around the walls of the place. Chinese lanterns hang from the walls, and shiny psuedo-Chinese characters decorate the walls above the many windows, but other than the big Buddha behind the bar, there's not much to suggest the name beyond these things in the back lounge.

We sat and drank, everyone ordering drinks at different moments, and no one really getting second drinks because there were massive lines. It took long enough to just close out the tabs, let alone drink more, that it wasn't worth it.

So we drank up, kind of slowly in case anyone was showing up late, and then, giving up, moved on across the street to Piecora's.

Wolf picked up his fourth hundred bar sponsorship. Big ups. Four out of five hundred bars prefer Wolf to pay for them.

Brandon tries to claim this is the best pizza in the city. I have no idea where he gets this idea, since just about everyplace in Seattle has better pizza. But whatever, he sticks by his assertion, and if he wants to eat it, so be it. Less that I have to eat. It's not terrible, but it's strictly middle of the road.

So we rolled on in, Brandon and me, Wolf, Jim, Jake and Phil. Phil was picking up the bar, because he had been put off on Chop Suey, although Jake tried to get himself in on it. No such luck. Also, Melody had called and was stopping in, having just been sailing (at 9 o'clock at night on a chilly February evening) a bit off at the very end of Madison where we were busily drinking.

We got in, sat at the biggest table, ordered drinks and desserts and a couple of slices, and were pretty much satisfied. The drinks were okay, and even if they really weren't as cheap as might be hoped, they weren't terribly priced. The desserts were from somewhere else, just heated up in the restaurant. They were okay. The slices were nothing to write home about, although the fact that you can get any customized slice even moments before close is nice.

We were eating and drinking, and then Melody arrived, and there was much rejoicing. She described her sailing adventures, we all thought she was a bit daft but then, she did have a good time, so what do we know? Phil picked up pretty much the whole bill, not just the drinks, so a great many thanks to him for being pretty awesome.

Jake could not keep from hanging on Melody's every word. Which is kind of cute, because she's gorgeous and all, but kind of over the top, too.

So we finished up and moved on, and Brandon, Melody and I went on to hit the Satellite for more drinks, and we discovered the horror of the Three Kings, Jim, Jack and Jose, which must be tasted to be believed, and shouldn't be believed.

Phil got the sponsorship, and we're very grateful. It wasn't a bad hundred night, overall.

Brandon had been driving by this place and seen they had no cover on Wednesday, so on that day we two hit the joint. It's a dance club, specializing pretty much in hip hop/R&B, but on Wednesday it's pretty dead. There were about 10 people in the place, all Asian pretty much, and we were able to order our drinks and have a peacable visit.

The place is pretty big, with a big bar and a small seating area just by it, and then a dance floor with a second half floor that was mainly over the dance area. We went to the second floor and sat there, totally alone, on a big ass couch not far from the (closed) upstairs bar.

There's not much to say about the place. I kind of liked the layout, but then, the drink left a lot to be desired, even if it was pretty cheap (3 dollars for any drink til midnight, their sign claims for Wednesday). It was not exactly strong, and didn't thrill. We drank, we got up, we left.

Several strange things about Mr. Lucky. First, it was until rather recently a place called Niko's, a Greek restaurant, but it closed recently, in part because the owner's son got killed on the Ave in the "Skateboard Killing" last year. Second, it's got the number from the Back Door Lounge, sort of, since the BDL number now says it's changed to a different number, which, when you dial it, gives you Mr. Lucky. Third, Bridgit, who found the place in the Stranger, calls it Mr. Friend, at first as a mistake, and now just because.

That's about the most interesting part of Mr. Lucky. Okay, it's got a nice cat logo, and it's actually pretty decent looking inside, with a high arched ceiling and a lot of space, and AC/DC playing on the stereo (because the bartender could get away with it). But there's nothing much going on (as it wasn't the weekend, cause we hate cover) and there wasn't a terribly impressive vibe. I really couldn't figure out how it would work as a club, because it seemed pretty much like a hipster version of a fern bar, and I wasn't all that impressed.

Well, the drinks were at least...mediocre.

Alas, Mr. Lucky wasn't very.

So we left, after two not so much club/bars in one night, and I was glad to be done with them.

It's getting really annoying. We're in the last weeks here (actually, we have 18 days remaining) and there's only about 25 bars left. So why must they always be closed?

Day after day we hit these bars, some with phone numbers that don't work, some with numbers that go to someone's cell phone, some too new to have listed numbers. It's all a crap shoot at that point. Maybe they're open, maybe not, but we'll never know til we go.

And then there's the places I've called. I called every bar I could get a number for, and got hours. Well, apparently people either lie to me, or don't understand what I'm asking, because we've had three places, at least, that weren't open when they claimed they would be. Not counting Bernard's on Seneca, which even has a sign on the door to say they'll be open when they aren't.

Why must they all be closed? What's the deal with that? Can't they sense we're in the last days and don't have time for this shit?

You'd think we deserved better by this time. But no, apparently not.

Well, fuck them. They're the dregs anyway (as you can pretty much tell by the fact we haven't been there yet) and so I suppose we get what we pay for, in this case not much.

But still...it would be so much easier if they could just be open. A little.

In a strange sort of twist, Sandy from my work who sponsored a couple of bars very far back (79 and 80) is now taking the quest on the road. She'll be in North Dakota to visit her family, and while she's there, she's going to do a mini-quest in Park River, ND. Okay, there's only five bars there, but it's a one night quest, and she's got low tolerance, so it should be fun.

If I'm not mistaken, the whole thing will go down on or about the night of our last bar, but in a distant and cold state. After her return, there will be posts about the bars she's seen, the night life in Park River (such as it is) and so on. Just like the real quest, but very, very small.

So raise a glass to Sandy clearing out her home town, just like I'm clearing out mine.

Type: Neighborhood
Class: Dive

Down on 23rd next to a really good Philly Cheesesteak place is Thompson’s Point of View. This is a neighborhood establishment with a small restaurant up front and a small lounge in back. The restaurant was about moderately full of older black folks sitting around having a meal or a quiet chat. In the back, a short bar was being tended by an older black lady who ran a tight ship. A mixed group of 30 somethings were playing darts and having a good time. Sitting between the two dart machines was an old fan. In order to get it spinning, one guy had to give it a bit of push after turning it on. That just strikes me as funny.

Our drinks were incredibly strong, cost $3, and were sponsored by Jeff. I spent most of my time standing in the lounge smoking my cigarette. Jason and Jeff went off to the restaurant to sit. At one point, a woman asked me if I wanted to play darts. I declined saying that I wasn’t any good. “Then how are you going to get better?” She asked me. She is right, but I still needed an excuse since we weren’t hanging around. They all seemed like good people, but I guess ultimately I suffer from cultural stereotyping as much as the next suburban white guy.

The back area was crowded and I did see one white guy get a drink and go further into the back. It was kind of strange actually. He seemed a little skittish about something, but he definitely was here for a reason. Who knows. I like Thompson’s and think that it is a nice friendly neighborhood bar. I give them 3 Martini Glasses out of 5.

--wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

While we were driving to this restaurant Jason said that the Ethiopians and the Eritreans had fought a long and bloody war and that while their food and culture was almost identical, we should not mistakenly call them Ethiopian. I am good at putting my foot in my mouth, so I kept this in mind. The restaurant looked like just about every other, ahem “Eritrean-esque” restaurant that we had been to. The tables were simple with a glass top. The carpet was bland and utilitarian. In the back corner a fake hut had been built and a tall woven table sat in the middle. Pictures of Eritrea hung on the wall highlighting various tourist attractions.

The waitress came out and basically said that Eritrean food was just like Ethiopian. She was young and had no trace of an accent. I guess as an Americanized Eritrean, the past did not leave the same bitter imprint on her that it may have left on others of older generations.

The food was good. The drink was fine, and Jeff picked up the $4 drinks. I liked this place well enough, but it wasn’t great. I give them 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

The Most Ambitious Drinking Quest Ever is about to come to an end and you have the opportunity to be there!

Do not miss this once in a life time chance to attend the completion of a quest that has never seen its like. Don't forget there will be someone world famous at this event. How could you even think of missing this opportunity?

Here are the final details that we will be releasing:

Date: Friday March 21st, 2003
Time of arrival: 7:30 (get there early to find parking, please)
Festivities Begin: 7:45 to 8:00
Awards Ceremony: 8:00 or so.
Until: I fully expect this to go till 11:00 and then maybe we will go somewhere we have already been. Why? because we can! :)
Where: Well, now we get to the tricky part. We will be revealing the place on Friday, March 21st (the day of.) I will be calling people, so I will need a phone number where I can call and leave a message or get ahold of you. Have a pen and a piece of paper handy so that I can give you the address.

Cost: Besides the cost of the drink there will be food. If you plan to stay for more than just the final drink make sure that you have a good $20 to $30 available. You may not need it all, but it is good to know that you have it.

Seating: I don't know how many people are going to want to attend this even. I do know that due to space considerations there will be a primary table and one or more subsequant second tables. I wish we could get everyone squeezed into one place, but it just is not going to happen.

Sponsors get first priority, based on number of sponsorships. The Top 5 Sponsors will be granted a special SO slot that they may fill with whoever they please. This is their reward for their amazing support. Oh, and Clarkie does not count as being part of the top 5 for reasons that will not be mentioned here.

I hope to see everyone at the event and I promise that it will be memorable. There will be awards, special mentions, drinking, and eating. It will be a hell of party, I promise you that.

Remember, email us early. Getting in early may not guarantee you a top spot, but it sure gives you a better shot at one.

-wOOt

On our list, it was Hung Huong, but no more. Now it's got a new name. Which we didn't find out until we got there, but it didn't matter. Getting there was the problem.

And yet not, at all. The problem was that we went about it the wrong way, because we didn't know where exactly the bar was. So we drove by a series of back streets, most of them deadending or poorly marked, and then finally got to the place, only to discover it was just off of Rainier Avenue, and would have been very easy to find from the other way. Oh, well.

Inside there were just a few Vietnamese guys, and the three young women and one guy who worked there (I'm guessing they all worked there, at least, since they kept wandering in and out of the back.) The drinks were quick to come, and were cheap as hell ($2 wells on Tuesday and Thursday) and were reasonably strong even.

Brandon asked to look at the menu, and it was quite a labor. Because, you see, it was two hundred items long. A lot of them were pretty similar items, of course, but it was still really, really massive. And a whole lot of it sounded really good. The kitchen had closed already when we arrived, though, so there was no food for us.

Still, we asked about the menu and got some advice about what to order, should we come back, and since we now know the easy way to get there, we just might. Come on the right night, and it's a cheap drunk along with the food. Who could complain?

They have live music during the weekends, in Vietnamese, so not so much for those of us who fail to understand the language.

This place is totally deck. Compared to it, almost all other bars are fin, even those in the totally deck Belltown area.

Confused? Allow me to make all clear.

We drove north from Kim's to stop in at the Twilight Exit, a bar located in the same block as Deano's and Oscar's II, the sorts of places where geeky white boys probably shouldn't go at night. But I had heard from a coworker that the Twilight Exit was different, and it was.

Actually, it was hipster central. Which is why I use deck (cool) and fin (over), since those are terms from the chortle worthy Hipster Handbook that just came out. But curiously, the Twilight Exit actually is pretty much a hipster place. They have bull's horns mounted behind the bar, lots of red lights, a sit down Ms Pac Man, the Sound of Music album jacket pinned on the wall and a coin op rust-felted pool table. Parti-colored hair, often unwashed and curiously styled, was plentiful. In short, hipster paradise, in the CD. Not what I expected at all.

The drinks were pretty good, and weren't too expensive. The place was pretty full for a Thursday, not quite packed, but definitely hopping. There were also a few older guys, working class types, hanging out on one side of the bar (near the Ms Pac Man) and we ended up sitting there.

They have cute staff, a good jukebox, and convenient bike racks out front. What's not to like? Other than the fact that it's a total hipster place, which could be either bad or good, depending on your mood. This night, it was pretty good. Another night, I might not be so sure.

It was on a total lark that we stopped in at the Century Ballroom after the Twilight Exit. Really, we were looking at another bar, but it was closed, and as we were driving past the Century Ballroom, we thought we should just check the hours. On the website it looked like it was all cover, all the time, but I had gotten a different impression from their print ads, so we parked and went up and into the place.

A sign said (it's in a larger building) that the ballroom was through the cafe, and that looked like a good sign. So there it was, the tiny cafe, and we popped in and asked if we could get drinks there, or just in the ballroom where there was indeed cover, and quite the crowd.

The staff at the cafe, who were in the process of closing up the microscopic kitchen, assured us we could get a drink, and so we did. The server had to go into the ballroom to get the drinks, which came in plastic cups not because they were supposed to but because they have only one dishwasher and have been going through so many glasses that they've fallen behind. The drinks were pretty good, but we ended up sipping them pretty slowly, because we started to talk to our server.

Her name was Tavia, and she was a lot of fun. We talked off and on with her, with her friends who had shown up, with whoever was around. We told them about the quest, and they just loved it, which is good because we pretty much need other people's enthusiasm at this point, or we won't have any. This close to the end, it's just trudging across the line, pretty much.

So we had a fun time, and I watched the kitchen close with fond memories of my time in the Den, and the food that was being put away (soups and such) all looked and smelled good, and it was a good time in that tiny cafe. The staff was all pretty festive, happy to be closing one can only presume, and so it was kind of like a little work party that we were somehow invited to.

Tavia said she wanted to come out with us sometime (and it looks like that will probably be this Friday) and we got contact info and then prepared to depart the bar. The drinks, our lovely hostess said, were on the bar, and we were even happier then. Overall, we had a lovely time, and it was a cute little place. There's also ballroom dancing of various sorts, and you can take lessons there (Sean is, for one.) Drinks, food and dancing all at once, a pretty full service place with delightful staff. Definite revisit potential.

This isn't actually us, but hey, it's from us, so here it is.

We were at the Bouchee Cafe and Creperie the other night, and the owner, Tiffany D., had just been presented with an idea for a drink special by a guy from Mexico. He knew what went in the drink, but not the exact portions. So he had scribbled down the basic idea and passed it to Tiffany, and we were there when it happened.

Tiffany then suggested this interesting idea: any of our readers who wanted to could go ahead and make this drink at home (or at least a rough appoximation) and come to Bouchee with their recipe. The bar will make it up, and it's yours on the house, which may be a good or bad thing if you've made it kind of shoddily. Plus, you'll get a free dessert with your meal just for coming in with the drink recipe.

What the name of the drink? No idea. The guy didn't have one, and I haven't come up with one. So think of one on your own.

A couple things. The dessert crepes are to die for, truly tasty. Get one with nutella, vanilla ice cream and strawberry jam, a delicious combo.

Second, the drink is not to be toyed with. It's some drink.

Here's the basic recipe:

Condensed Milk, about a cup
Peanut Butter
A little Vanilla Extract
Some Tequila
Blend with Ice

I think this makes two drinks. I made up a version for me and Brandon, and it worked for two. It's kind of like a shake when it's done, but you could maybe make one a bit thinner by adding some water, I don't know. And the taste? Well, it's a peanut butter shake of great tastiness, but with tequila. Which is...different.

Bouchee is at 34th and Fremont in Fremont, Tiffany's the one who's running the place, the magician will do funny tricks if you let him. So stop in with a recipe, have the drink (I dare you) have a dinner crepe and enjoy your dessert. Don't forget to mention us.

Sandy has confirmed that she'll be doing the quest in Park River on the very night of the Last Bar, so that her Last Bar will be on the same night (okay, her first bar will be to, but at least there's some synchronicity.)

NorDak (North Dakota for those lucky enough never to have been there) has liquor laws which allow just about everything in every bar, and drinking goes on at pretty much all of them til 1 am, so there shouldn't be a problem getting all (five of) the drinks in. Maybe she can even arrange sponsors.

Curiously, I'm getting amused and interested about her quest, small as it is, in much the same fashion as I did about the one here. Funny.

Type: Neighborhood
Class: Dive

When I say that Kelly’s is dive-a-licious I mean it in the scary way that makes you want to take your life into your hands and visit it, rather than the “lets go slumming it” way of yuppies. The place itself is not that scary, but the fact that it is located across the street from crack park certainly says something about its clientele. At pretty much any time during the night you can find various drug deals, crack addicts, or police sweeps going down.

The crowd was incredibly multi-cultural (White, Black, Hispanic, Native American) but they were all down and out. We visited there with blue haired Mel and she really stood out. The bartender has been working here for too long and dreams of running a really nice place. He plans to remodel and in fact he kept talking about it. Now that they can serve booze they will really upscale the place. I will believe it when I see it.

The décor is, ahem, interesting. There are dozens upon dozens of beer mirrors filling the walls. Old and faded beer signage hangs from ceiling or is stapled to walls. Behind the bar was a very cool Miller High Life sign of woman sitting on the moon with multicolored lights. I had not seen one before (but have seen several since then.)

We got to witness a minor “domestic” as a little old woman in a beat up pink puffy coat yelled and beat on a larger older man wearing a dirty trucker cap. What it was about is unknown but I am sure that it was something stupid. Most domestics usually are.

Mel picked up the sponsorship of the $2.75 drinks. I give Kelly’s 2 Martini Glasses out of 5. I only recommend it if you are interested in seeing the seedier side of life, and I am not talking seeing a cool dive like the 5 Point.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Midscale

Off the beaten path, but worth walking the extra 50 feet off the side walk is Functional Fuel. With a style that is a cross between a 50’s style cafeteria and modern chic, the overall feel is comfortable but not too trendy. The pale green and orange should look terrible but it doesn’t. Instead it adds to the style of the place. The modern looking glass and steel shelves next to the slick curved bar give a great feel.

The booths are tall and are great for people with good posture (otherwise they seemed a little uncomfortable.) The looked good, but could use some cushions. Exposed ventilation added to the cafeteria feel but touches like the salt and pepper shakers off set the retro feel.

Lou, our bartender, is great. I know Lou from somewhere else and it was quite a surprise when I ordered my drink and I realized that I knew him. He really knows his stuff and gave us a drink recipe (I forget what it is called.) We spoke with Johanna, the manager. She was tall, very cute, and friendly. Her eyes sparkled when she smiled.

Mel picked up this $4.25 sponsorship. We had some excellent food, including a great satay. God I love peanut sauce. They like the sauce because it wasn’t too peanutty, but for me, there is no such thing. The drink that Lou made Mel was excellent and is listed next.

I give Functional Fuel 4 Martini Glasses out of 5. As we were walking out, we noticed some signs hanging on pillars outside that we very self affirming and talked about eating well, drinking well, and having a good life. Normally I would find all that sort of self affirmeing claptrap annoying, but having come out of FF, I really appreciated them.

-wOOt

I don’t remember what the drink is called. I have only noted that it is good and it is purple. Here is the recipe:

Muddled Lemons
1 part Vodka
1/2 part Parfait Amore
Drop of Peach Schnapps
Drop of simple syrup
Blue Curacao for color

Shake. Pour.

Oh, there was probably ice in there too, but it was strained out.

-wOOt

Type: Neighborhood
Class: Average

This used to be Hamburger Mary’s. Then it used to be The Flame. Now it is Bar. Despite the fact that the name on the receipt says The Flame. I hope that they are incompetent and that we have not bee duped. Bar is basically the same as the Flame, with the recessed bar and the open mingling area.

Now, it has a couple more pool tables, a couple more video games, and it looks less Karaoke, but I can’t be sure on that last one. The crowd is still a cross between hipster and punk. There was a gang of lesbians in there playing pool, but I don’t know if they typify the crowd.

I think for the first time on this quest, Jason and I left the table at the same to go to the bathroom. With Mel there to watch our stuff, we just both happened to get up to go to the loo. It was strange. To make things worse, the bathroom was down an endless set of stairs in the bowels of the building and past a couple of Chinese guardian lion statues. It was all very weird.

Mel picked up the $4 sponsorship, thanks Mel. I give bar 3 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Midscale

Due to its especially strange hours (11AM to 4PM) we had to make a special trip on a Thursday morning just to come visit this place. It turns out that it is the center meeting area/restaurant/bar of the Seattle Design Center. The SDC is basically a large number of showrooms of various Interior Design Suppliers where Interior Designers walk around with people as they decide what they want. In fact, you can make an appointment between noon and 3 (I believe) for a free 20 minute consultation with a interior designer. I very much want to do this, but it just smacks of the drug dealer saying that the first one is free.

The café is simple but very stylish. The center space is very open with a number of great windows that always catch the available natural light. The chair and tables all compliment each other and the bar is nice, but mostly unused as seating. There are two types of chairs here and each table has one type of chair or the other (not both.) At one point a set of 4 people sat down and an older gentleman replaced his chair with the different style from the other table. Once they were engrossed in conversation, one of the staff took the chair that was out of place and replaced it with an extra matching chair that they had off to the side for just such an emergency. I love this place.

The drink was $6.25 but at least it was enormous and strong. As with charity auctions, they have learned the most important rule of selling things. Tipsy people spend more money. I am not really sure why, but I wish that this place had some real hours and was open to the public a little more. It seems a shame that all of this space is wasted for the entire night.

I give the Atrium 3 Martini Glasses out of 5 but I am not entirely sure why.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

This Greek place is located in the front left corner of the Alley. It is fairly innocuous looking, but it is definitely worth a look see. They have a nice new bar in the back. It is not very big, but it is very comfortable for a party of about 3 or 4. It is very wide, which is nice for eating or playing jacks.

The room is painted in a lovely blue and lots of very nice touches that were put here by Stacy, one of the owners. Stacy took over El Greco within the last year or so (I believe) and they have been slowly updating the menu and the establishment, so as to add their own feel, but not to freak out the regulars. They got their liquor license in under a month and that is a good sign since that only happens when you have no Health violations in your restaurant or in your kitchen.

Stacy really reminds me of my friend Holly. She is sassy, sweet, and busty (busty is an important descriptor for both of them.) Once she had a few moments she was very friendly and really enjoyed hearing about our quest. I have not had a chance to go back here to eat, but I am definitely looking forward to it.

I give El Greco 3 Martini Glasses out of 5. The drink was good and the well was Jim, but this is not a place for a swinging night life.

-wOOt

Type: Neighborhood
Class: Dive

When we called them originally, they said that they were open till 10 PM or whenever it was too slow to stay open. I called at 9:50 and convinced the bartender to stay open, despite the fact that they were on the slow side. There were only 2 of us, but I guess the sound of a man on a mission convinced her that she wanted to stay open. We drove very quickly and still got there before 10:00 PM (we were on the south side of Cap Hill, having failed to go to Michael’s Pizza.)

The Historical Triangle, is historic because it used to be a brothel and it is triangular. There are still two apartments up stairs, but I can’t imagine they are in good condition. The tavern itself is REALLY tiny. It will probably fit about 25 people and that is shoulder to shoulder. When we got there, there were about 6 people in the bar, 3 of them seated at the bar playing pull tabs and the other 3 in the back by the tables. The people playing pull tabs were playing them by the 30’s and tipping the bartender a hefty sum when they won. It was really creepy.

The bartender, Mary, is quite the character. She is loud and friendly, and a total pull tab pusher. She would goad these guys into playing more pull tabs and truly seemed to get into with them. I don’t know what that says about her, but it was a weird synergy watching her interact with her pull tab junkies.

We told Mary about the quest and about some of the places we had been. She claimed to have gone to “most” of the bars in the city. She could not back up her claim, but we did get into this weird discussion about Tula’s. Mary claimed Tula’s as her second home. I will talk more about our conversation with Mary in a separate post (it is too weird to list here.)

Anyhow, the Historic Triangle is oddly shaped, and a total dive. There is little reason to come here, although it is an interesting stop for a quick drink. I give them 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Mary bartends at the Historic Triangle a couple of nights a week and is quite the character. She is about 5’8”, fairly thin, longish dirty blonde hair, and you can tell she was once pretty, in a South End kind of way. From the way she speaks, she is high school educated and has been bartending for many years. She is good people, but a bit excitable.

We were talking about our quest and for some reason Tula’s came up. Mary got really excited because Tula’s is her “second home.” “Its my family.” We mentioned that we would be going on a Sunday because we had a complimentary admission card from Ruth, who bartends on Sunday nights. As some of you might remember, we met Ruth at Andy’s Diner (which has a great breakfast, but stay away from the breaded fish.)

Once we mentioned Ruth, Mary got very defensive. “I was the last female bartender that worked there.” “Who is this liar!?” “Let me see the card she gave you.” Mary looked at the card that Jason produced from his wallet and proclaimed it to be a fake. Despite looking almost exactly like the one that Mary had to give out, she proclaimed it a fake and Ruth a liar time and time again. To our eyes, the logo on the cards looked exactly the same and despite being laid out a little differently, they had the same font and card stock. At one point Mary claims that Ruth must be making these cards up and handing them out, but that they are fakes. “I guess as long as she is advertising for Tula’s it is ok, but …”

This tirade of Mary’s went on for the rest of the 10 minutes that we were there. Mary went so far as to call the owner to find out if there was “a Ruth” working there. Unfortunately the owner was not home. I really wanted to be there to hear Mary’s reaction.

So the follow-up to this little tale is that about a week or so later on we went to Tula’s on Sunday. Standing behind the bar in all of her fabulous glory was Ruth. We told her about Mary and she seemed to remember the name, but she had never met her. Ruth was very interested in this woman who she had never met, but seemed to hate her existance. I don’t know if Ruth and Mary have ever met, but I don’t favor Mary’s chances.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

The Ethiopian Center is yet another of the large number of small Ethiopian restaurants in this two block area. It is a small place with two pool tables, two small tables and five seats at the bar. The bartender is a friendly woman who we spoke with about Ethiopian liquor and how their business was. She said that Ethiopian’s do have their own brand of liquor but that you can’t get it outside of Ethiopia. I don’t know if this is because they don’t export or because it is just too expensive to have a in a little place like this.

We had a vegetable samosa that was excellent. Our drink was at least a shot and a half. I love these Ethiopian places. I give the Ethiopian Center 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Nightspot
Class: Average

Having arrived on a weeknight it was mostly empty and I suspect that was ultimately a good thing. From the outside the Safari Club does not look like much. It is a simple unadorned front with a door and a sign that says ‘Safari Club.” We walked in and showed our ID to the bored looking doorman. Despite being the only white guys there, we did not rate a second look. I guess it is a good sign when the doorman doesn’t go, “Hey whitey. Are you sure that you want to be here?” I don’t know if we would be referred to as Whitey in the Rainier Valley, but I suspect that I need to stop watching so many old Pam Grier movies.

The club is very dark and is lit only by the bar light and the large screen TV over the medium sized dance floor. The club was empty except for the 8 people or so sitting at the bar. The crowd was black and Samoan. The Samoan guys were stereotypically big. The bartender took our orders and gave us our drinks efficiently. She was tallish, black, and really skinny. She looked really bored as well. This was definitely just a job for her. The drinks came in crappy plastic glasses but that is fine. The less glassware available to break over my head, the better. I say that because on Hip Hop nights, I bet this place gets really raucous.

The drink was fine, but the Safari Club had one important event happen here. It was here that we decided to shoot for going to a total of 570 bars, our stated goal. It would be tough, but we could do it. As long as we could line up enough sponsors and enough fluff, we would go for it. I am very happy that we did.

I give the Safari 2 Martini Glasses out of 5. If you want Hip Hop closer to the city I recommend Ego 916. But it you are local this is a probably a pretty decent place as well.

-wOOt

The places we'll go to try to get to 570. Okay, they have really decent Mexican food here, but still, their only booze is Tequila. And okay, there's nothing wrong with tequila, but still...

So we pull up to the place, and park in the back lot, and it's a small restaurant with the bar, such as it is, hidden behind a "wall" made of empty beer boxes, Corona and Pacifico. Good beers, but the bar, as mentioned, is a bit lacking.

There's a mass of workers here, six or so people constantly working the floor, each with, it seemes, their own two or three tables, but most of them also picking up whatever slack appears at the other tables. The guac is fresh, the food is good, the drinks are all margaritas. And they were good margaritas, too.

So we ate, we drank, and we moved on. There's not much else to do here, since there's no real bar. Oh, well. The drinks were pretty fucking decent, so who can complain? And Brandon even had leftovers.

Three weeks earlier, I had an encounter with this bar, and that's all I'll say. You can look it up if you're interested, it's about three weeks ago. Anyway, it wasn't the best thing I could have done.

So tonight, after just a single bar, we were there. And there's a pretty big lounge in the back, with a dance floor kind of space that, however, has a pool table attached to it. There's a bar with low chairs, and it's sunken in the server's area, so that our waitress seemed shorter than Brandon (I kid, no one is shorter than Brandon.)

Anyway, we sat at a table and ordered drinks, and they were just 2 dollars. Plus they have nuts of various sorts at the bar, both as customers and in little bowls for the eating purposes.

This is one of my odder reviews.

The waitress took my card for a single drink. Nice of her, but mistaken, because it was my round. Oh, well. It was super cheap, anyway.

So I'm sorry it happened, a few weeks ago, and it's a nice place. Go there. I'm not, but then, I'm embarrassed to show my face.

We've got just two short weeks left. 27 bars, and two weeks. Or perhaps as many as 42 bars, but that requires a bit of explanation.

We once thought we'd just do as many bars as there were in the city, and that would just get to 570 by magic. But it didn't, because you all don't drink as much as you should. So we were going to be a bit short. But it's crunch time now, and we think we might just be able to make 570.

So if you sponsor, or if you want to sponsor, this is your chance. Your last chance, really. We have 15 days, total, remaining, and we need to hit a lot of bars. So there's a lot of drinking, and a lot of chances to get a mention. We're going out almost every night in the next couple of weeks, to try to hit the total number of bars, even hitting service bars (shudder) to make the secret number.

Really, then, we mean it when we say this is your last chance. March 21, and it's all over.

This was pretty much Siam, but the Mexican version. There was no one at the bar, which we have waited for months for it to fully open. First, there was no bar, even though they had a fully lit cocktail sign (which they later left unlit). Then, they had no licensed bartender. But finally, both were accomplished.

We went at once to the totally empty bar, and sat. The bartender, a slightly thickset Mexican guy, came and made us our decent but not remarkable drinks. A minute later, another guy came in with his dog, which he left laying by the front of the bar, and started to drunkenly ramble about the fact that there used to be a Thai place here (true) which much karaoke, and how Mexicans loved karaoke. So they should get a machine.

The guy was the most entertaining thing about the place.

So we drank, talked to him as little as possible, and then left. It was nice to finally get rid of the place, since they've been on as a possible for like four months. And we moved on to one more place.

Tiffany Diamond is the actual name of the co-owner of this place. I'll start with that.

Then I'll retreat a bit. We arrived at this reasonably small restaurant kind of late. They have a full bar, which is good, and they have crayons on their tables, which are covered by sheets of butcher paper fully good for drawing on. So we did, while ordering drinks and a dessert crepe.

There was a house magician, who does a remarkable trick with a spinning card, and your ID, which is also spinning much more than the playing cards that are otherwise used. It's kind of freaky, because you know it's a trick, but you can't avoid it. He's also kind of funny.

The owner came over after, and we chatted about the quest, and about drinks (which led to a Contest, about which I've already posted). The bar is kind of new, and they're still working on specialty drinks, so they don't have what they want exactly.

We were talking about nights out, really, and Tiffany said she wanted to make the place an affordable night out. Now, I really liked Bouchee, I should say before I got further, and I really, really liked my crepe, which was most tasty, and totally worth the 6 bucks I paid for it. But if an affordable night out for Tiffany involves well drinks priced also at 6 dollars (that's with tax, but still), then I don't know where she goes out. Cassis, perhaps. The drinks were pretty good, but not that good. And affordable implies you could have several of them for a decent amount of money, not at all the case.

So did we like the place? Yes, totally. Would I recommend it? For crepes, yes. For drinks, the main purpose of the quest, no, not at all. Not good value.

After, we went home. It was late and all. The magician kept performing, I think.

Type: Nightspot
Class: Midscale

Medusa is the new trendiest place in Belltown. With a “strict” dress code, overdone everything, and enough hype to kill a horse it is the place to be if you need to go to a Vegas style nightclub in Seattle.

If you arrive before 9 PM you will see two things. The first is no cover. The second is no people. If you don’t want to pay the $10 and don’t mind sitting around for a couple of hours while the trendy people eat and get ready to go out for 11 PM (at the earliest) then get there early. If you don’t mind dropping at least $100 to $250 that night then call up and reserve a table. I imagine the $250 is for the private pool room. I have to admit that a private room with your own pool table would be great. If you put enough people into it, covering the $250 minimum bar tab would not be difficult.

The décor is totally fake and done up as a Vegas style Cathedral. It has high ceilings, faux frescoes, titled tables, lots of “weathered” wood and fake masonry. On each table in the bar area were tall religious pillar candles. It looks like a night club that Betelgeuse would go to (the Michael Keaton character, not the Astronomy object.) The drink was small, expensive, strong, and filled with cheap booze. The glass looked real, but was the return of the plastic tumbler. All of the staff was good looking, but they were doing work in the back room since it was still so early.

We ordered our drinks and waited for one of our sponsors to show up. The first one to show would get the sponsorship. Finally we got a call from Mel and she was arriving soon. She showed just long enough to sponsor our drink and smoke a cigarette.

I suspect that I would like Medusa, even though I would not want to pay the money to enjoy it. I have a soft spot for snooty yuppies and trendy SINKS (Single Income No Kids). They are fun to watch. I am utterly unable to pick anyone up at a place like this, but I still like to look and their DJs are probably pretty good. I recommend pre-funking fairly hard (but not noticeably) before coming here and then having a pounder and dancing till you are tired.

I give Medusa 3 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Hotel
Class: Average

This simple hotel bar has low chairs, decent corporate art and a marble bar top. Round light fixtures sat on the table and the drink menu was decent.

After the horror of trying to park downtown (when half of all the parking was taken by construction) we finally got to sit and drink with Brad and Maria. Jason went off and “had a good pee.” So good in fact that he felt the need to announce to us, just how good the pee was.

Our drink was decent and sponsored by Brad. My Gin and Tonic came with a small vase of tonic. I always like that little touch. Although I bet that is the most stolen piece of glassware in the whole restaurant.

The Lobby Court was filled with businessmen and other hotel types. It was very uninteresting. I give them 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Hotel
Class: Midscale

This chi-chi Italian restaurant is up on the 28th floor and has pretty decent food. The whole look is clean and crisp with uniformed waiters and aloof staff. The view of the city was excellent, but the view of the Lemon pictures was unbearable. I don’t mean they were bad pictures, per se, but they were pictures of lemons and they needed to go. I guess they were bad pictures.

They had a piano player but no piano. It was strange listening to him play the Flugelhorn. No I’m kidding. Anyhow, he played the Charlie Brown dancing song at one point and it just seemed so freakin out of place. We were not impressed.

Tavia, of Century Ballroom fame, met us here and sat down for a drink and some food. Tavia is quite excellent and I am happy that she met up with us. She is pretty with short faded multicolored hair and a slight hook to her nose. I think she was a bit overwhelmed though since there were a total of about 10 of us out by the time she showed up. She had to leave after this bar though because she needed to go to the airport. We were happy that she came out with us, but I suspect that we won’t see her again unless we bump into her on the street.

Pellini was ultimately uninteresting and boorish. If you want Italian food, a view, and aloof staff then this is your place. Otherwise, give it a skip. I give Pellini 1 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

In order for the Catwalk nightclub (which I have been to many times) to get a liquor license, they needed food. They had two choices: serve food in the club or open a restaurant under the Catwalk umbrella. They opened a restaurant and the staff there knows that they are second class citizens. I don’t think the restaurant expects to make a profit and I don’t think the staff cares. They know that they are just a place holder so that the club can make extra money off of booze.

I do give my thanks to the waitress who was reluctant to let us in to have a drink. They were closing in 10 minutes and there were 6 of us. That could only mean that she was not going to get home on time (since they were totally empty otherwise.) We convinced her that we there for one drink and we would make them simple. No fancy Cosmos or Lemondrops. There would be only Whiskey and Cokes and Gin and Tonics for us.

The 164 has some interesting fetish art on the wall. It was not great art, but it sparked conversation so I guess it did its purpose. Above the kitchen was an Elvis clock with swinging hips for the seconds counter. Brad picked up these $5 drinks and for that we love him. There was lots of exposed brick and red velvet. A small upstairs area was empty, but looked just right for private dining and semi public nookie.

I give the 164 Restaurant 2 Martini Glasses out of 5. I would give the Catwalk itself 3 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5 because it is a good club for what it is. I should probably do a proper review for them, but you know what. Screw ‘em.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

TR2 as I am calling it is another in a long line of race oriented places that happen to be open to everyone. This is very much a place for the Seattle Thai to come and hang out and drink. The fact that us locals also come and eat and drink is just a bonus. I say this because the Karaoke is in Thai. The bartender speaks the most English, but the waitresses speak almost none. What crowd there was, was mostly Thai, but there were two groups of Caucasians there. There was definitely no intermingling.

TR2 is part of a building complex. As such it does not have bathrooms of its own. Rather you have to walk down a long empty hall with stone floors in an echoing hallway. The sound was quite excellent as my hard heels echoed through the hallway. It gave such an impression of authority. Nothing like a little imaginary ego boost to perk up an evening.

The spring rolls were pretty decent but the portion sizes were a little small. Of course that is coming from an American and god know everything is bigger in America. Anyhow, TR2 was fine but nothing special unless you like Thai Karaoke. Anthony, Mel’s friend, picked up his first Sponsorship here. Anthony is a pretty good guy, but he is a big geek like most of us. Interestingly, he used to be a fire fighter, but computer money was just too good.

I give TR2 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Irish Pub
Class: Average

Built in the bowels of Jak’s roadhouse this is the first place we have ever been to on opening night. Considering that it is new and the run up to its opening was not that long, we were not expecting it to be nearly as packed as it was. In fact, it was fucking packed. I don’t know if that sort of good fortune will extend into the future, but for just one night, this place looks like the absolute jiggy bomb place to just hang out. I wonder if it was able to hold onto its moment in the sun.

We walked in (our crowd now seriously diminished down to Jason, Brad, Maria, Anthony, and Myself) and I totally swooped a table. Light pine, bright lights, and Capitol Hill locals filled Clever Dunn’s. There is a large pool table, Irish knot work glass, and a pretty good looking crowd. I know that those 3 things have little to do with each other, but this is all just stream of consciousness anyway. The press of bodies, even if they are pretty bodies, was too much and they really needed to open a window or 6.

Standing not 5 feet from us was a guy wearing a tartan jacket, a Harry Crumb tux shirt, Blue Velvet Pants and white shoes. It was the most bizarre look we had ever seen. I desperately wanted to meet him for about 30 seconds and then it passed. It was fun just trying to get a good enough look at him to determine if he was actually wearing what we thought he was. I secretly hope that was Clever Dunn. It would be a reason to come back here more often.

Brad picked up the sponsorship of this drink.

The other notable moment of the evening was when Jason went off about money at Anthony and/or Brad (I forget who.) Jason is by all accounts poor. This quest is not cheap and every time the issue of money as a barrier comes up (lets do X – I can’t because I can’t afford it) it chips away a little bit at Jason. You usually don’t really see it, but it is happening, and every once in a while the dam breaks and Jason snaps at someone. Tonight was one of those moments.

I give Clever Dunn’s 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Dive

Through the small grated door with faded paint is a large drab room. This room is simple, with stark lighting and little in the way of décor. I am always happy when immigrants are able to open to businesses of their own. Their lack of décor should not be a deterent to your trying them out. For Fasika, we were there only for a drink, but Jason and I have been to a number of Ethiopian places that we definitely want to go back to for food.

The bar area was a large L shape. Jim kept trying to order drinks that were too complicated. Jeff, Jason and I kept trying to explain to him that he needed to keep it simple in places like this. The Bartender did not even understand what I wanted the first time I asked for a Black Label and Coke. Normally all of the places know JW Black and JW Red label. Its almost impossible to get anything else.

A small keyboard was set up to one side and there was a large open area that would be great for dancing. We were not there for that. We had our drink, watched part of the game and then headed out. It was fine. Jeff picked up my $4 drink. Thanks Jeff. I give Fasika 2 Martini Glasses out of 5. They didn’t really earn them both, but at least they are trying.

-wOOt

Type: Neighborhood
Class: Dive

Deano’s is attached to Deano’s mini market, which implies that Deano is a person of some importance in this neighborhood. I have driven past this place about 3 times a week for the last 2 years. I always seen a relatively large number of lower class black people hanging around out here. I assume they are all good people, but this block (which is across from Oscar’s II) is always teeming with people just hanging around. I don’t know if they are the same people, but I don’t spend a lot of time watching them as I drive by. God I feel like a little white suburbanite driving past a zoo all of a sudden. I don’t like this feeling.

Inside is a long hallway that leads to the bar area. As is typical with these types of places (Rose Petals, The Turf) there are lots of signs posted everywhere. They post about not selling drugs, who is 86’d (for 30 to 90 days), the charity of the month, and what not. One sign claims a 2 drink minimum, but that was not enforced at 3 PM on a Sunday. As the only white people there, I suspect the rules don’t quite apply to us, since they don’t expect us to hang around.

There is a small dance floor, that was being used by these strange older men. One guy was dressed in an all red jump suit. It was quite spectacular. He started dancing with this older black lady. They seemed to by having fun.

Our drinks were in plastic cups, strong, and bought by Jeff for $2.50. In the back were groups of men playing dominoes. The similarities between them and the men who play Mah Jong in the parks of Shanghai and Beijing were just astonishing. There is lots of yelling and tile slapping and relatively hidden but definitely there betting.

I liked Deano’s and despite the feeling I get that it will get much rougher at night, I liked just seeing the folks there hanging out and having a good day of it. I give them 3 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Service
Class: Average

To say that Michael’s Pizza is a fluffer “bar” is an understatement. They have booze as the president has ethics. Technically they are there, but they are so poor and their selection is so small that they mind as well not have any at all. A small shelf behind the register held 3 or 4 bottles of booze, in various states of full, strewn about. The selection was small and the servers were … interesting.

My favorite was the girl with the tatoos, dreadlocks, and stupid knit hat that barely got off the phone the entire time that I we were there. She put the phone down long enough to get one of us a slice of pizza, but that was about all. I was not impressed.

Jason says, “Pizza Good.” Once again, I was not impressed. It wasn’t bad for Seattle Pizza but that is like saying … oh never mind. Anyhow it was fine. From the signage they are going to start having (or already have) live music. I think that this pizze place is the pet project for some local Cap hill Hippy or hipster who wants his own place and doesn’t really need it to make a bunch of money. There was a covered DJ booth at the front next to a make out couch. I wonder if this place actually draws a crowd with a specfic underground raver scene.

Jeff sponsored these $3.50 drinks. The drink wasn’t good, the selection wasn’t good, and the price was fine. There is no décor and half of the staff annoyed me (the other girl was bland.) I give them 1 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

After clipping his straw with his hand (but not actually knocking over his drink) it has been determined that Jason is not allowed have straws in his drinks anymore. He can stir the drink with it, but he is not allowed to just leave it lying in wait any more. Nope, not allowed.

The Athenian is a classic Seattle restaurant that has a diner portion with two counters and then a bunch of random seating. Our waitress was easily in her 50’s and was quite … ahem … well endowed. She had these enormous breasts squeezed into this top that would have been cute about 30 years ago (both the top and the woman.) In addition, when she leaned over just wrong we were shown glimpses of sights men were not meant to see. I hope she has a loving husband, because I don’t want to be exposed to those … well lets move on.

Jim picked up this $3.50 sponsorship. Our seats were hard wood with a straight back and they were mighty uncomfortable. Being only open during the day (till 6:30m PM) this is not really the place to come for a drink. I give The Athenian 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Upscale

Canis is Seattle’s most traditional steak house in Seattle. As such, it has all sorts of rules and takes all sorts of presumptions that normally don’t fly in Seattle. Lets start at the top. First, they only have Valet Parking. This would not be so bad, except for the fact that they simply tack $5 onto your bill without ever actually telling you that they are doing it. When I thought that it was a free service I was impressed. When I learned they charge you without notification, I became very unimpressed. Next is the dress code. We tried to stop by one evening and were told not to bother getting out of the car since Jason was wearing jeans. Sheesh. Finally, they were god damn pricey. Between the $6 drinks and the $12 appetizer I can definitely say that they live up to their image. Strangely though, they were still cheaper than Cassis. Hmm, I wonder if Cassis built their business model on Canlis, but they took it to a whole higher level of suck.

All of that being said, Canlis did look quite nice. But it could not hold a candle to our lovely hostesses. We met Bridgit, Bridgit’s Mom, and the Russian Baronness here, their treat. They tried to buy me extra stuff but I would not hear of it. There was much talking, much drinking, and strangely, a bunch of flirting. The Russian Baronness was very flirty this evening and being single, I did not mind. Sure she is in her 50’s (probably), but she has a total Mrs. Robinson feel about her (at least towards me.) I don’t think her husband would approve, but I suppose the trick is just not to ask. We wanted to run away to Russia together, at least for a couple of weeks. That could be interesting. We talked a lot about travel, life, and St. Petersberg. As I went to Paris last May for a photography class, I am thinking about doing the same to St. Petersberg in the summer. I don’t think that I can afford it, but I would really like to be able to.

Canlis has a great view overlooking Lake Washington and the U. District. The clientelle is much older and obviously well to do. We sat at shiny black marble tables, in low comfortable chairs. The tables were not really big enough for the food that we ordered, but we made do. Our waitress was good, but they should go take lessons from El Gaucho about how to make your customers, any customers, feel like a million bucks.

This was a good time that had absolutely nothing to do with Canlis. They are expensive and do not live up to their reputation. The view is nice and I am sure that I could be converted if the steak is good enough (but I doubt it). I had $12 Teriyaki Steak Tips that were good, but they were about $8 good, not $12 of my fucking lord that is good. I bought them though because I figured, what the hell, how often will I be in Canlis.

We left early (I forget why) but I heard later that the Russian Baronnes was drunk enough, that as they were leaving, she pinched the ass of the older valet. It is so shameful. I give Canlis 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Due to the very great number of bars we're hitting in these, our last days, we'll be falling behind. Not because of not putting up bar reviews (although with Brandon, that's part of it, he has about a dozen ready but just hasn't posted them.) Rather, because the number we're hitting is going to exceed our ability to post. Since bar 500, just Monday before last (12 days ago) we've been to 35 bars. With about the same number more to come in the next 13 days.

So if you wonder why we're mentioning numbers we're nowhere near in our posts, it's because we're galloping ahead too quickly. Hopefully we'll be all caught up shortly after the end of the quest. Hopefully.

It's also called, I think, Uncle Mo's Game Room, but it's Planet Georgetown. I have no idea why they have the name, since it's a divey little place with no real glitz, but there it is. However, it was a kind of strange place.

Red was coming out with us, and we hit this bar first of the three we were going to with him. Really, we had tried to hit Fuji Sushi just before, in the ID, but they were closed for the break between lunch and dinner. So Planet Georgetown (PG) was the first of the day.

It's a diner kind of place, with a long counter/bar, a few tables that line the wall across from the counter, an area beyond the aisle thus formed that is the non-smoking section, and in the back there's a game room with a couple of pool tables, Golden Tee, dart boards, that sort of thing. Uncle Mo's lair, one must presume.

We sat at a table and thought about getting food, since it was cheap and was almost certainly to be plentiful. However, we decided to hit the Mexican place that was next on the list for food, and so we just ordered drinks. Our bartender was a portly, tattooed fellow, balding and with a goatee that had a white patch which he didn't trim, so that while most of the goatee was nice and short, there was a trailing strand of white that was some eight inches long hanging from just off center on his chin. An odd look.

The decor was odd. There were plastic moon/planet/star mobiles hung in the place, a gas pump near the front door, odd pictures in the non-smoking area and the locals, who were themselves a bit odd. Older, drunken and more working class than most, they all seemed to be just kind of there. Like they were always there, which might just be the case, since it was 3 on a Saturday, and there they all were.

We drank and left, Red picking up the sponsorship, very good of him. It's a weird sort of working class bar, but not really worth the visit.

A few winding roads and odd turns away from PG, Taqueria Coliman was our late lunch spot. While I merely noshed on chips and salsa, Brandon and Red had meals, which were, for both of them, a bit more than they wanted to eat. Hearty portions were in the ascendant.

But I jump ahead. Instead, we'll enter the bar to see an older couple at one table, a younger couple at the other, and a very much darkened bar in the back. But then, it was early. Anyway, we were there for food, so there was no need to sit at the bar, which in any case had no tables for more than two.

So we sat at one of the tables, dropped in the middle of a large dining room, and a moment later had tasty salsa, chips, ice water and a waitress to take our order.

The drinks arrived a bit later, with enormous red straws in them. These straws become important a moment further along, when I tried to set down my water glass right into my big red straw and tipped over my almost entirely full drink.

A lesser mortal would proclaim the drink done. Not I. Instead, noticing the table was rather clean, I simply wiped most of my drink off the table back into the glass, a method that turned out to be surprisingly effective. Brandon and Red were looking at me like I was crazy, and Brandon actually said, "You're not going to drink that, are you?" This from a guy who used to clean out his mom's fridge of leftovers when he went home from college every three weeks or so. A man who'll eat three week old leftovers has no call to look stunned, as he did, when the other guy on his bar quest decides to suck down a spilled and rescued drink.

So I lost about a third of my drink, I'm guessing, but it was still pretty decent, and then the food arrived, and they ate. I just drank a lot of water and ate more chips.

Brandon's Super Burrito turned out to be too super, and Red left some sides, but they both liked the food. It was just too much. For the second day in a row Brandon ended up with Mexican leftovers.

Red picked up the drinks, and we mosied on, planning to head back to Fuji Sushi. However, as we went to the car, Brandon and I suddenly figured out where we were, by spotting the brilliant canary yellow sign of T-21 immediately across the street. And all the little side streets we took to get to Taqueria Coliman suddenly seemed a little silly.

They were open on our return, and we sat in the front, just for drinks. The bar isn't so much a bar as a counter with no seats and a few tables in it's orbit, but they didn't think it was strange that we just wanted a drink, and only at the end did they bring us a menu to look at.

We ordered and were served kind of slowly, but there were other beer related orders to be filled. The real problem came with trying to get the check, because the waitress and the hostess just kept circling around us, not noticing attempts at eye contact, and missing entirely raised hands.

The drinks were just okay, nothing much, while the menu prices seemed pretty decent. We didn't really see any food, so I don't know how it looks, and in any case, it's sushi, so you probably already know.

Red picked up the bar, once we had finally flagged down the check, and then we had ourselves dropped at Brandon's place, because there was Circus Contraption to be seen, and more drinking after.

So when we went to I-Spy, lo those many moons ago (it was bar 97), we saw a band called Circus Contraption. They're a truly huge band, with like 10 people, most of whom didn't seem to do much on most of the songs. We were rather confused by the whole thing, although the music was great, vaguely sinister vaudville/clown kind of music, voices projected through bull horns, all of that sort of thing.

Then I observed three weeks ago that they were giving a full show in Tukwila, with apparently aerialists, vaudville, music, juggling, all that sort of stuff. We had to go.

But we didn't, as something came up. So then a week later, they were going to be in Redmond, and this time, between Fuji Sushi and the next bar, we did go.

It was spectacular. Music, rope people, dancing, aardvarks, insects, wrestling duchesses, juggling, puppets, opera. Everything. They're great, and I know they're doing their routine, one more time, somewhere tonight. They were part of a King County arts program. But they'll probably be somewhere else sometimes soon, and you should go see them. Also, it explained why they had all these extra people, since they were the jugglers, aerialists, and etc.

Good stuff. After, we went to find another bar to hit.

There used to be a Traveller's III, and in fact the sign is still up, even though III has been gone for a couple years. There might have been a IV somewhere, but in any case, there's now a V, just a block south of where III used to be. It used to be a place called the Aurora Family Restaurant, which I rather liked, but while the restaurant was nice, there was no booze at all. Not a drop. They had a lot of AA meetings in the place, so there was nothing to drink.

Now that it's Traveller's V, the back area, once used for meetings and overflow seating, has become a lounge. The furniture is still the same, kind of broken down and comfortable, but moved around the edge of the room. There's a little wooden dance area, new to the lounge, and a big bar at the very back, which was a welcome sight. Apparently, the bar is closed on Sunday, although the restaurant area is still open. Weird, but so be it.

We talked with the bartender, Cubby, and carded him. He told us about a lot of the changes that had been made, and how after III they decided they wanted to be more than a tavern, so that when they got a chance at the Aurora Family, they took it, because it could so easily have a bar. So now, for apparently the first time in the Traveller's history, there's a full bar. He went to tell the owner about the quest, and said the guy would be by to chat with us, but he never did turn up.

It's a Native bar, very popular with First Peoples, and known (in one incarnation or another) all up and down the coast. People from Alaska stop in when they're in town, from the Rockies, from all down the coast. Cubby and many of the customers (though not all) were Native Americans, but it didn't feel at all exclusionary, which was good.

We paid up after lingering a while to see if the owner would show, which he didn't. The drinks were okay, a bit strong, and priced decently. We were told the restaurant menu was the same, which is good, because I liked that menu a good bit. Simple and basic, with a lot of grease and good breakfast. So, content with our experience, we left.

I am not quite sure why this is, but I can never seem to remember that the Airport Way exit off of I-5 exists. It is a small innocuous exit that does not really go anywhere useful (at least not for me.) Strangely, passengers in my car can seem to remember that it exists, but any person who drives has no idea where the Airport Way exit is.

“It’s the exit under I-90.”
“There’s an exit there? Where does it go?”
“Airport Way.”
“Where is Airport Way?”

Anyway, the point is, it is a strange phenomenon, but as long as I don’t think about its name, I can find it. Otherwise I end up driving to West Seattle. It is just the strangest thing.

-wOOt

Jeff said this place has been struggling for years, and I can totally see why. It's a tiny bar and restaurant in a basement in Pike Place Market, and it looks kind of run down. That's okay, I guess, since it's supposed to be an underground cabaret kind of place. Friday nights, Patti and her husband play to a captive, no cover audience, but otherwise, there's cover most times. And why not, because they offer so much.

First off, the drinks are weak. Really, really weak. Secondly, there's a three dollar minimum for every patron, so that if your drink is just a soda, but everyone with you is getting something more expensive, your soda is still 3 dollars. And there's no refills. Plus they only take cash. Plus, they have a sign which quite pleasantly tells you that a double will cost double. And in the case of Patti Summers, be a single.

It's the first place I've run into where the people, while kind of friendly, seem to be actively hostile to the idea of getting customers into the place. Every policy, every sign, makes it clear that you're only there to give them money, and if it wasn't for the lots of cash in your pockets, they'd want you as far away as could be. Really, I hope they do close, because the whole attitude just sucks. Immediate and obvious hostility to the people who are paying your bills is kind of stupid, and kind of offensive.

Wolf was with us, and not having a drink, which is how we know of the 3 dollar diet coke, which, it should be noted, was also in a 12 ounce cup. He had intended to pick up the sponsorship, but lacked any cash (who would think you'd need cash at a place that claims to be a night club, and is in Pike Place, for fuck's sake?) so that didn't happen.

Also, Brandon couldn't shut the hell up, and kept talking to the husband for reasons which were unclear to me, and later to him. I kept expecting him to pull out a card and tell him about the quest, which would have been horrible. Fortunately, he managed not to, and we left.

Located a block from Patti Summers, it was such a relief to arrive here. The drinks were worth drinking for one thing, and the staff actually seemed to realize we were customers.

It's in the Market itself, a three story edifice with views out over the misty and grey Sound. We were seated on the middle level, where the actual bar is, in a booth up against the windows, with the whole vista spread before us. The bartender was friendly and brought us our drinks quickly, and they were rather strong. It was good.

We complained about Patti Summers for a while, then moved on to figuring out if there were more bars to hit. Wolf and I had to swap drinks because we had each gotten the other's, but they were both tonic and clear alcohol, so it was a normal mistake.

When we said it was just one round, the bartender seemed sad but brought the check which could, incredibly enough, be paid with a credit card. I know, such technology is rare, but someplace has to have it, right, Patti?

Anyway, Wolf picked up the check, for his umpteenth sponsorship, and we moved on.

We headed for the Seattle Center, to drink at the one full bar in the place other than the sporadically existant Space Needle bar.

Located in the Center House, Michelangelo's is a rather commercial little place, bright and cheery like it was a Red Robin, almost, although it's not a chain, really. There was another on the waterfront, but it's gone now, so it's just the Center House branch that still exists.

We sat at the very far end of the bar in the rather large bar area of the place, right where the waiters all come to get their drinks. It was one of the places where a sort of wartime mentality of friendship and jollity existed among the staff, all of them cracking wise about their fellow workers, customers, and whatever else came to hand. Our bartender was chatty and quick, serving up a fast round of beverages. Brandon ended up spilling his, which I suppose makes up for the one I knocked over at Coliman, but I'd get ahead in just a couple more days, so I shouldn't gloat at this point.

We also ordered a roasted garlic sort of antipasto plate, which was made the way you might make it at home, with no fanciness at all. The meats with it were turkey and ham, the cheeses were just whatever was to hand, and the only really good thing about it was the vast quantity of roasted garlic included. It was acceptable, however, and we ate it all.

The drinks were okay, nothing special, so while there's no real reason for returning here, keep it in mind when you're in the Center for something like Folk Life or whatever. It's the only full bar in the joint. And we all know how valuable that can be when you're surrounded by potchouli-scented hippies.

Wolf picked up the bar, and we called it a night, having spent a fruitless first hour looking for bar after bar, and having them all be closed. I wrote a journal entry about it, maybe you read it, if not, go back and do so now. Feel our pain.

It was the next night, a Monday, and we were meeting up with Jeff to hit some bars. We were starting at a bar I've been by a hundred, a thousand times, without really thinking of it as a bar. Lemieux's is right next door to the Sears that my brother and I used to go to as kids for "downtown" shopping. (We lived in West Seattle, so it really was downtown to us, but then, West Seattle is really provincial.) So I've been by it, since I think it's been there forever in one form or another, since I was kid. But never in, and never even really noticed it.

It's totally a working class hangout, open from 6 in the morning til, most night, about 7, some nights 8. Once the workers have had dinner and gone, there's no reason to stay open. Nobody lives within miles of the place. There's no other night spots. It's just a bar for workers.

Kind of run down, it was, and it featured strange Budweiser inflated bottles wearing sombreros, which we saw at Colimon but in my enthusiasm for my drink story, I forgot to mention. There were four guys at the bar, talking about, of all things, Guppy's in West Seattle, and how they all hadn't had any idea it was a gay bar until they went in.

We sat, ordered, and waited for Jeff, who was meeting us after getting off from work. He arrived a moment later, having parked in the back lot (we ended up parked a long block away because of too many one way streets and funny lights), ordered his drink, and related with joy that it was only four days til he was done with his ex-wife for good. I love happy news, and this was very, very happy.

Anyway, we drank, and Jeff told us that when he worked in the Seattle office he and his team used to come here for breakfast, and for afternoon meetings, so he's got old history with the place. It's kind of dingy, but a nice sort of diner place, with a big long counter in the front, perfect for a cup of coffee and a danish in the morning, if they have danishes.

Jeff picked up the bill, and we discussed our intent to head to Thompson's Point of View in the CD next, and then we parted to start our seperate trips down to the bar.

It's just a door down from Philly's Best Cheesesteak, across the street from the General's BBQ, and only a few blocks from Tony and Farida's place. Thompson's Point of View, you could say, is in the ghetto.

We arrived within moments of each other, having used different routes, and finding different parking, but Jeff was just walking up to the door as we jaywalked across the street. We walked in to see that we were the only white folk in the place, except a moment later another somewhat weasally fellow came in through a back door. There's a restaurant area in the front, mostly empty, and a packed bar in the back, with a side room for darts and with the jukebox. There was enthusiastic dart playing going on from several people who were pretty good and their one friend (isn't there always one, usually me?) who isn't. We ordered our drinks, which were poured pretty strong, okay, very strong, and then Jeff and I went to the restaurant portion to get a table. Brandon was apparently enraptured by the darts, and we in fact offered a game, but eventually came to join us.

We drank and chatted, commenting mainly on the pleasantly strong drinks. They were pretty good, really, although it was cheap alcohol, there was plenty of it. And they were cheap drinks, too, especially since they were essentially doubles.

After we finally downed all the sweet, sweet booze, we headed on out, meaning to hit an Ethiopian place. But it wasn't to be, and we ended up going for Eritrean instead. Jeff picked up the sponsorship, two so far, and very happy we were.

As we were approaching the bar Jeff and I explained to Brandon that although there would probably some similarity between an Ethiopian place and Hidmo, it might be best not to mention it, because there had been a long civil war between the two nations as Eritrea became a nation. So keep it quiet, we said.

And then when Jeff asked what the food was like, our waitress, young and looking Ethiopian but obviously raised in the US, said, "Do you know Ethiopian food? It's the same."

So indeed it was, but with different names. We ordered a meat combo, and a veggie combo, and ate it with gusto while sipping our drinks. The drinks were served with ice, plenty of mixer and straws, so it wasn't all just like Ethiopian. But the food was, and it was good, but I still maintain Zobel as my fave of the type.

Jeff, once again showing what a genuine nice guy he is, tossed out all his remaining cash for drinks and notably more than his share of the food, with Brandon and me just picking up a couple bucks and tip. And so we were ready to call it a night, and bidding fond farewell to our new Number 3 sponsor, we departed.

The sponsor's page is changing so fast that I feel like I should put a quick update here.

So our top ten sponsors are:

1. Wolf, with 39 bars (new number 1)
2. Glen, with 38 bars (we miss you man. if you're doing the surprise run in, it'll be the best moment ever.)
3. Jeff, with 25 bars (the master of the Valley)
(3.5 Clarkie, with 21 bars [dropped from contention, of course])
4. Bridgit, with 20 bars (feeling the need to pass Clarkie)
5. Mel, with 13 bars (queen of Wednesday)
6. Sean, with 9 bars (got his own nightlife, damn it)
7. Jim, with 8 bars (plugging for a top spot)
8. Melody, with 7 bars (most for a bartender)
9. Red, with 6 bars (coming on strong)
10(tie). Clara, Julie, and Brad, with 5 bars each. (Brad's got the fever)

And then there are our other sponsors, Gwen, the HOPS team, my mom, Meg, and Bridgit's Mom/the Russian Baroness (4 each), Alan, Annie, and Chris (3 each), Nick, Tony, Anthony, Vincent, Sandy, Phil, Star and LeeAnne (2 each), and the one timers, Bea (love you, dear), Kyle, Trevor, Farida, Kara, Ole, Mandee, Tavia, Danielle, Jesse, Melanie, Safety Monkey, Marla, Uncle Don, Tara, Billy, Julia at Firefly, Eric at the Lighthouse Grill, and Andy at Benihana.

To all of you, our thanks. I know many of you are still planning on picking up more bars, and I thank you in advance, as I'll thank you afterwards. This isn't the last list I'll post, and it's not the only reward you'll get. There's no way (both literally and more emotionally) that we could do this without you, and while we perhaps don't express it enough, we both feel so much gratitude to you that there isn't a good way to express it all.

If my numbers are off, the fault lies with my poor eyes, and I apologize. I think I did all my counting correctly, but there's a lot to count, so I may be off. If I missed you entirely, boy am I sorry. Permission to kick me is granted.

Okay, now back to our regularly scheduled accounts of drinking and so on.

Located just across the street from beautiful Crack Park, Kelly's is a dive. Not a good dive, just a dive. The crowd was, much as Joe's, tooth optional, and had probably been joined to their stools for a great number of months or years. There were pool tables and a jukebox, and much sign of the place being, or having been, a seedy tavern for a very long while.

Into this den of iniquity strode Mel, Brandon and myself. It was the day we got the new list, the last list, and Kelly's was a new addition. The bar itself has been there for the entire quest, but it's just recently gotten it's liquor license. So the look of a seedy tavern was not far from the mark, as that was what it was until just back in January.

It was still a seedy place, now a bar instead of a tavern. There was a fight, of sorts, at the door, with an old woman calling her much younger companion a variety of names and making several threats. For a moment I thought she was somehow the owner, kicking someone out, but then she went out to join him, and a moment later, when we left, they were arm in arm in front of the bar. Scary and tender all at once.

There was an interesting neon/light filament thing above the bar, which was for a beer and displayed, at times, a starry night sky, or a woman riding on the moon and drinking a beer, or just the logo. It was kind of nice, but the bartender, an unappealing thin man with some large sort of fleshy wartlike growth just beside his mouth, said he was sick to death of it. It was about the only thing in the bar I liked.

The drinks, as could at least be hoped, were both strong and cheap, which was the saving grace, as far as one existed, of the bar. Really, it was just a minor grace, and I'd never, ever go back there, even if they claim the place will soon get better. I'll believe when someone reliable sees it and tells me about it, because, as mentioned, I'm not going back to see it. It's a real shithole.

Mel picked up the sponsorship with a bit of delay since it was cash only, and we hastened to retreat from the pesthole that is Kelly's.

Type: Service
Class: Midscale

The most memorable part of this restaurant is the bar that isn’t actually a bar, but rather is a lunch counter, but looks remarkably like a bar. It is a long candy cane with a rounded wooden lean bar and high stools, each with a very thin piece of padding for my fat American buttocks. A long row of wine bottles along much of the bar gives the impression of a wall between the booze and the people. We sat at the end of the “lunch counter” and were served booze, as if by a bartender, but really he must have been our waiter. A plate of booze was stashed on the counter behind the bar and it was really ghetto looking. They should just pay for an actual bar and stop being annoying about it. I wonder what the liquor board would say about their little setup. Maybe nothing, but who can say.

The entire place is coated in dark hardwood. So much so, I just can’t imagine coming back here. It doesn’t look comfortable at all. This is the type of place I would come for a business meeting when I want to keep myself from getting to at ease. The whole place just left me … on edge. Maybe it was all of the triangles (art, lighting, wall sconces) but all in the entire place left me … nope, not gonna say it. Instead, it left me cold and uninterested.

Jim picked up our $5 plus tax drinks. They were decent enough. There were lots of staff running around but once we waved off the menu, we were non-entities.

I give the Queen City Grill and their giant fish mascot 1 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Service
Class: Average

This is probably the most eclectic place that we have been to. The walls are simply plastered with the strangest and most diverse set of knickknacks, posters, announcements, advertisements, wall paintings, and just general bizzarities. I am fairly sure I could have hung a 570 Bars sign on the wall and no one would have noticed, until it caught the staff’s eye and they said, “man that’s cool.”

We had chips and salsa, and I had nothing but my drink. While talking, I made the first ( and last) slip about the last bar while talking to Jason. Jim was sitting right there, but thank god he was totally not paying attention. God Bless his little oblivious heart. I said the first name of the final bar right there for the whole world to see and then got a look on my face and kept on going so as not to attract attention to it. Jason’s eyes went wide after the moment it took him to register, but then also picked up on my hint and just kept talking as if nothing at all had happened. Phew … that was a close one. He did hit me for it, but I deserved it.

The crowd is young and very Belltown hip. Jim thought one of the waitresses was very cute, but he did nothing about it for the moment. Instead he waited till after Tula’s (see next review. You see, it is like a cliffhanger.)

The chips were fine, as was the drink. There was lots of interesting Elvis stuff, Mexican stuff, and so many other things that you could just wander around the place trying to see it all, but you just can’t. I give Mama’s 3 Martini Glasses wearing Sombreros out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Nightspot
Class: Average

This Jazz club has a number of small tables for perfect for cozy dining while listening to live jazz. There is always a cover at Tula’s, unless you know one of the bartenders (which we do) but since the jazz is excellent, it is worth the price. We met Ruth at Andy’s Diner and she gave us free passes for Sunday night, thus we had to go. Since we got there early enough, even Jim was able to sneak in without paying cover.

The overriding color here is green. It is simply permeates the place. Fortunately, the lights were dim, so the greens did not bother me. I’m not sure why, but for some reason green is the color of restaurant chains. Everything else about Tula’s is eclectic and cool, I just wasn’t digging on the green. Pictures of famous Jazz musicians and Jazz events hung next to old instruments and other Jazz related paraphernalia. The light fixtures were very nice. I liked the blue saucer effect.

The 4 piece jazz band playing was really good. We talked to Ruth for a while and told her something about Mary. She had heard of her, but knew of no reason why she would ‘hate her’ so much. I don’t know, but I don’t think I want to be in the room when those two meet for the first time. Ruth told us that it was traditionally very hard for women to break into bartending at jazz clubs. That seems weird to me. I guess it is just tradition.

Jim picked up the sponsorship of these drinks. Ruth also gave him a couple of free passes so he could come back another Sunday and really enjoy the club (we had a commitment that prevented us from staying.) Tula’s is an excellent place to come to listen to Jazz if you can’t make the Standard Café’s bizarre assortment of hours. I give Tula’s 4 Martini Glasses out of 5.

Oh, so armed with these free passes Jim decided to write his name and number on the back of one of the passes. He dropped the pass off at Mama’s Mexican Kitchen for the girl he liked. The kicker here is that she had already left and he just left the card for her. I just don’t get that.

-wOOt

Type: Service
Class: Midscale

Thi