This one gets a number because I wrote it down in my book. It's the third to last of the numbered bars, actually.

Lower Queen Anne, and it's a dueling piano bar, where Figaro Bistro used to be. It's not there any more, and now there's two face to face baby grand pianos, and a crowd of people who are somehow drunk enough to enjoy this. Brandon hates these places, of which there was at least one in Boston that his friends used to drag him to. I had only encountered the idea in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, so I thought it wasn't that bad.

I was wrong.

The bar was crowded, and we ended up sitting on two stools at the actual bar, packed in among people who were far younger than I would have thought a dueling piano bar would attract. Meanwhile, the pianists played their competing and alternating songs, taking requests from the crowd. So for the first few one minute snippets, I was amused. But then, as we sipped, and I enjoyed Brandon's discomfort, I realized that these guys were hacks, competent but unthrilling, and that there was no real...anything...in the bar. And I suddenly wanted to leave, to escape this terrible place.

The funny part is, Brandon had moved rather slowly with his drink, realizing, perhaps, that I meant to linger just to torment him. So that now, as I tossed back the rest of my cocktail, he was still nursing his, and the shoe was on the other foot.

Fortunately, as soon as he realized I was done and ready to go, so was he. I was just imagining all that crap about him wanted to stay to make me suffer. We beat a hasty retreat and headed a block away to The Sitting Room.

Once there was a girl who came out drinking with us all the time, who took a run for the number one sponsor position and almost made it, and then very suddenly ceased to appear. Oh, at the end she made a few more appearances, and then she and I went to Italy together for a couple weeks, but then really, she was just gone.

In the last few weeks, she's resurfaced, and now, in a wonderful turn around, she's coming out with us tonight. She gets married in a week, and moves to New Orleans in two, so this is the very last chance, perhaps ever, that I'll have to go out with her. I'm rather glad she's making the time. We're going to new bars, so maybe we can get her, for old time's sake, to sponsor. Which would be funny, as we're done, but then, we have had one or two sponsors since, so it's not unheard of.

Lux was the bar after Wonder Bar, and it was here that Wolf met up with us. We got a table in the restaruant area, because the bar is just that, a bar, with stools and not much else. It's a nice looking place though; there was once an Italian restaurant here, but there's not much left of it, leaving a sleek new place with an appealing style. I needed to hit the bathroom, which is located in the main building. Lux is in Wallingford Center, and that used to be a school, so all the restrooms are inside the hallways of the old school, and that's where I had to go. When I returned, the waiter came by and I ordered a drink I had been eying on the menu, only to discover as he walked away that Wolf and Brandon had already ordered drinks for us.

This was to be my downfall.

We also ordered some food, satay and something else, I think, but it was a couple months ago so I don't really recall what the something else was. But the food was delicious. The drinks arrived, and there were two for me, one being a vodka tonic, as per my norm these days, the other being a Key Lime Kazi. This is a Key Lime flavored Kamikaze, that is, a little more mellow than a normal Kazi, with the added bonus of a graham cracker crumbed rim, and it was an excellent drink. As Wolf and Brandon were both driving, it fell to me to drink my other drink, as well, and so I was now at a lot of drinks in a little while, and there would be trouble.

It was my turn to pay for drinks, and so I did, taking a few bucks for food, and then we blithely walked out. I should note that I hadn't gotten my card back yet, or signed, I think, the charge slip, but what did I know about that? I was pretty drunk by this point, so I didn't even notice.

The next day, when I was trying to pay for party supplies, I would notice, and realize that I had no card, altough fortunately I had the cash I had gotten for food and a little more that I had been carrying. Upon calling Lux's number, I discovered that it was the boss's cell phone, and that they would open at 4, he said, and I could pick up my card any time after that. He knew exactly who I was, but then, they hadn't been open more than a month at the time, in November, and can't have had many cards left behind. So I picked up the card, and bought some party booze with it, and all was well, but it was kind of embarrasing. I mean, I'm supposed to be a pro, or something.

The last bar of a short night that still managed to fit in five different places, May is a newish Thai place with a great facade. It's all painted blue, extending up two and a half stories to a pointed roof, and with the eaves of that roof encased in fancy bronze work and topped by a statue of some god or other. The restaurant is the upper floor, with a little deck that will probably be nice for summer eating while the lower floor is the bar, where we went. May was in happy hour mode, as they are for much of the night, so we ordered a bit of food and some drinks. I was going for the specialty drink menu, as I had for much of the night, and tried their Raspberry Mojito.

When the waitress brought it, I gave it a sip, and didn't like it much. She noticed this, and asked if it was okay. I said I didn't like it much, and she immediately asked if I wanted something else. I took her up on it, getting a Lychee fruit based drink that was excellent, as was the food that showed up shortly.

The tables are big booths with wooden and tropical touches, and the lighting is dim but not murky, so that it's a pleasant look suggesting some distant locale in a warmer climate. I liked the place quite a bit, the drink I eventualy settled on was very tasty, the food was good, and May was a nice spot to visit.

There's this place on Capitol Hill, a little shop located in a crevice of Neumo's, called Frites. I've been past it a few times, and I even went in once, but there was no one there at all (I suspect they were in the little back storage area, but who knows?) so I just left again.

However, a few days ago, I finally ate there.

It's not a big menu. By which I mean, you can get Frites (Belgian/Dutch style fries) and like two other things. And sauces, you can get about 25 of those. But really, who needs a big menu when the one featured item is the king?

Those Frites, man are they good. Thick but crispy like a shoestring fry, and oh so tasty, served in a paper cone with a sauce of your choice. Sauces like pablano ranch, or a very good honey mustard, or rosemary mayonaise where the rosemary is infused throughout. Curry ketchup and roasted red pepper mayo, too. And a couple dozen more. So good that you eat them up, one after another, and then order a second cone, because they're that good.

They come in three sizes, Klein and Middel and Groot, and we should have just gotten a Groot, because they were that good.

It's a little place, and so it's easily overlooked, but you, and everyone you know, should go there, early and often. I know I'll be back every chance I get. Bridgit was all broken up about the fact that she'd never been there and now was moving just when she discovered it. It's that good.

So go. Now. You're still on your computer, aren't you? Log off, and eat Frites.

Located downtown just opposite the Convention Center, Bambooza was a tease of a bar at first. They were supposed to have a liqour license upon opening, but they didn't. So we waited. And then they were supposed to have one, so they told us, by a certain date, which we showed up after, and all they had was beer and wine. So we left. Finally, we returned, and they had their license, and all was well.

Bambooza is on the corner, and is split into two parts, each one following one of the streets. The larger portion is the restaurant, while the smaller is the bar. We sat there, in a little room with little tables and a really large, nice looking bar, bright and appealing. The tables had nice little Thai accent pieces, sort of, because it's a Thai place, sort of. But the good part was that they brought us a cocktail menu that had something like 200 "martinis" on it, being that all of them were served in martini glasses and now anything at all can apparently be called a martini. I say this not because I wasn't impressed or anything, because I was, and Bambooza did nothing wrong, I just wish some term had been created rather than the bastardization of martini that has occurred.

So we looked through the bewildering array of choices, and ordered some food from the much easier appetizer menu, and then settled on some drink choices. I can't recall, it having been several months since we were there (slackers), what I ordered, but it was damn tasty. And so was Brandon's. And there were numerous choices that seemed equally as appealing, what with there being more than 200 of them.

There was also rather tasty food, which was a good accompaniment.

The servers were pleasant as well, and the service was fast enough, if not perfect. There was something odd about the bathroom, but I can't recall quite what, at this remove, that might have been. Shows me for waiting so long to write the review. I've decided that this was the bar after the last one numbered, and that's probably even right, so it gets a number, and I'll try to figure out all the rest, as well.

It was a strange sort of 570 reunion. Bridgit had just gotten married, because that was why there was a reception, you see, and so we had come to attend, given our invites last week when we went out, after it was evident that there was still a great level of comfort present among us all.

There was a table with our old sponsors LeeAnne and Sandy (who did her own mini-quest for those keeping score). Bridgit's Mom and the Russian Baroness were there, and the RB threatened again to take Brandon off to St. Petersburg to be her pool boy. And then of course Bridgit was there, a bit late because she had instructions to let the guests mingle a bit before she arrived. And we were in Cafe Campagne, where we had drunk a drink as a rather large group during a night that ended with me pouring a glass of water over a sponsor's head for reasons still murky with alcohol.

It was delightful. There was good wine, PBR, tasty food, the company of old friends, and a wedding to be celebrated. So that all was well. Good times.

Congratulations to Bridgit, who has a new last name and is moving and all, but will always be one of 570's favorite people.

After fleeing Chopstix, because of that horrible tinkling noise, we wandered a couple of blocks towards an innocuous little bar called the Sitting Room. When we had visited Chopstix' predecessor, there had been no liqour stronger than wine at the Sitting Room, so they never got a visit from the questing team. But somewhere in the year in between, they, like so many places, got a liqour license. Good thing, too, because it's a good joint I might otherwise never have ended up in.

The lighting was dim but not dark, the setting was attractive while still being a little spare, unlike a lot of places that end up too cluttered. Brandon and I got a table and ordered a couple appetizers and drinks, and chatted about the decor and the adverts for things that were about. The drinks were good, although not terribly cheap, but then, they're at the foot of Queen Anne, so what can one expect? The food was tasty, and in a good nibbly portion.

I'd like to say more, really I would, but we visited the place like 7 months ago, so I can't be much more specific. It was good, though, and I'd go again if I were ever around there, which, really, I'm not. But if I were, you see...

It's a month after the visit to Chopstix and the Sitting Room, and almost a year after we'd been to the bar next door to this one, Outback Steakhouse. But finally we had arrived at Bone Fish. It's part of a chain that's just arriving in the Seattle area, and while it had been part of the little South Lake Union complex from the beginning, their construction time lagged way behind Outback, and so they had opened long after the other chain place. But it was, at last, open, and we were, at last, in the area, so we went for a drink.

They were just about to close for the night, and in fact, the restaurant was closed, the bar lingering for an extra hour. There were three people there, two of whom were employees, the last a guy at the bar at one end, near the TV. We asked if it was still okay to get drinks, and the bartender (whose name was Jody, it would turn out) said that yes, it was, if we didn't want any food. Which we didn't, so all was well.

It was a nice looking bar, for a chain place. Big, wood, lots of bottles, a friendly server, and while the lighting was soft, I think that was as much a reflection of the fact that the restaurant was closed as anything else. Still, it was decent enough.

The drinks were pretty good, actually. We chatted a bit with Jody about Bone Fish, which we didn't really know anything about, and took a look at the menu, which looked interesting and kind of adventuresome, again for a chain. The prices were a little high for my taste, but maybe if I ate there, and liked it, I'd have a different feeling. A bit high to risk on it being crappy chain food, I suppose. But it doesn't really have that vibe.

Anyway, the drinks done, there was little reason to stay, and anyway, they were closing, so we headed out into the night, further into downtown, to check out a couple other bars if we could. We would only get one of them, though, because some people are just bitches about closing early.

While I can't be one hundred percent certain, it seems almost impossible to think that Dawgy Style is still open. Two months ago, they were the scum of the bar community, ready to be taken off the top of the pool, and now, it seems that's happened.

Or at least, they haven't been open in weeks, and a lot of signage just got taken down.

On a happier U-District bar note, the beloved Kai's has improved by adding a second bar in the back room, formerly just their dining room, thus showing they recognized themselves as a fine drinking establishment. It's almost impossible to get a seat there now, for all the college students who know what they have in Kai's and plan to take advantage of it. Good work, Kai's. Good work.

After Bone Fish, we headed over to First Avenue just south of Pike Place Market, where there were a couple bars we hadn't been to. One was a Polynesian place that took over for another bar we did drink at, but that was, in the event, closed for the night. We still haven't been there, either, although it's six months later.

The second of the area was at First and Union, and is called, quite simply, Union. It's got a restaurant section along Union, and the bar along First, with an entrance all its own, in addition to blurring into the restaruant near the main, corner doors.

There were several guys there who I guess knew the bartender, but our man was quick enough at getting down to us that it didn't feel like he was involved with his own crew. It's a bar with a lot of street behind it; your back it to big windows, and there's life going on right behind you if you just turn to look. Being lushes, we instead looked at our drinks. We sat and sipped, and I seem to recall that I liked the simple feel of the place, which wasn't particularly fancy, just a clean, modern bar without too much frou-frou, and yet not a spartan, empty look, either.

The drinks weren't bad, the prices were downtown average, anywhere else high, and we tried to hit another couple after but with no success, so that was our night.

It was October, we were going out to a series of places that we thought might have opened, and we were suddenly and without notice in quest mode again. Parking was mechanical, we were on the prowl, everything was in tune. It was kind of odd to have it come from nowhere.

The Apartment was a good little place, a very spartan, very mod place with little tables and a big bar, a host who worked the room pleasantly and a flat screen TV with the movie "The Apartment" playing on it in an endless loop. Brandon had to take a call (doesn't this happen in all my reviews now?) so I ended up holding a little table for us which was within a couple feet of two other occupied little tables. It's that crowded in the bar, but it didn't feel like the other tables were closing in on us, so that was nice.

The staff was attentive, especially, as mentioned, the host, who I suspect was perhaps an owner, and who was very solicitous of everyone, inquiring if they had had a good time. The food looked good on the other tables, even the remnants left, since it seemed everyone else was just about finishing up and getting ready to go. Which was good, because the bar crawling crowd was starting up, and the room was needed.

The drinks were pretty strong, and not all that cheap, but that was okay. I liked the high roof, the clean industrial look, the upper balcony that actually didn't serve a purpose. I liked the place rather a lot, actually.

And then we headed out to hit a couple more bars, and narrowly missed running into Sean, but only missed him for a moment.

We left the Apartment and wandered down the block, to where I had seen that Fandango was no longer there. It was being replaced, I had noted, by a place called Torrero's, and that new bar was now open. So we made our way to it, and stopped in. We sat at the bar, where there were little standup menus and a bigger drink and food menu they brought us, which had a list of a lot of flavors of margaritas. As a result, we thought we might order some, but first we decided to call Sean.

Sean had gone out earlier, to Belltown I knew, so I thought he might be somewhere nearby. Turned out he was barely more than a block away, so he said he'd come and meet us. He had, as it turned out, just barely not gone into the Apartment a few moments before we had, or perhaps even while we were in the bar.

Brandon tried to order a Melon margarita, only to discover that Melon was apparently the one flavor they didn't have. So he had to think again, and eventually got some sort of berry. I ended up deciding on just a plain margarita, which was pretty decent, and the flavors were good too. Because we ended up with two flavors, Sean having arrived while we were waiting for appetizers, so that he had time to get a drink.

The bar is in the front, with windows looking out onto First Avenue, in the same space that the Fandango bar used to be located. It's only changed a little in that part. But the restaurant portion had a notable remodel, with the kitchen opening up, and new tables and booths. It looked pretty nice.

The drinks were good, the prices were decent. The nachoes had too much and too many toppings (who would think you'd complain about that?). We paid up and headed out, picking up chocolate mints. I found mine in my coat pocket a couple months later, and since it was a hard candy, it was still fine. I felt rather old then, finding a hard candy in some random spot. At least it was still wrapped and not lint covered.

We ambled across the street for another replacement bar. At times it seems like the entire Belltown night life economy is based on hopeful new bars that crash under the pressure, but it does make for a varied landscape, at least.

This place used to be the Belltown Pub, but changed owners and names about a year back. The interior was changed some, upgraded a little, but only a little, to take it from neighborhood hangout to sharp neighborhood hangout. The menu shifted a bit, the prices stayed the same, and the mechanical shark that once hung in the rear has vanished for parts unknown. Other than that, there's not too much to report.

Sean, Brandon and I entered, got drinks that were fine, food that was blah at best (appetizers, not real food) and stayed only a little while. The staff was friendly and helpful, which was good. But I don't think it's better than the old version was, although I've been to each only once, so what exactly I can claim to know is uncertain.

Anyway, we drank, we moved on.