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Partying in the Pacific Northwest
A Party Survival Story
Tying one on at
Malone's with some new best friends in Canada.
I got pissed in Vancouver.
While there's nothing off-the-wall or even remarkable
about this, it does show that I have finally started to love this place.
My first time here, I admit I was a bit disappointed.
I expected another Toronto, a city so full of life you can just feel
its energy just by walking down the street. On Vancouver's streets,
about the only thing I felt was pressure from people asking for money.
I passed not outdoor cafes bathed in sunshine, but tall buildings and
crowds.
Eventually, though, Vancouver began to wear down my resistance.
It's tough to stay mad at a place too long where the people are so great
and the beer is so tasty.
The real turnaround began when I began to discover its
really cool bars, like The Jolly Taxpayer. It's an authentic
English pub with wood tables, leather chairs and a bookcase for a wall.
It's exactly the kind of place I had unsuccessfully searched for in
London with Lorraine "That's it!" I exclaimed when I walked
in, although Lorraine was not around to hear my words. (Read about The
Bartender in London by clicking on the link at left.)
So, I headed to Vancouver and Seattle with great anticipation
for an eight-day trip in the Pacific Northwest. I started at the Taxpayer,
but the real fun turned out to be down the street at a rustic and friendly
sports bar called Malone's. I went seeking only a pint or two
but wound up having a quite a few of them, plus dinner, plus a few more
pints. I met a fellow alumnus from the University of Alabama –
the odds of which I cannot calculate – and some rowdy locals who
insisted I join up with them. By this time, I had turned from ordering
pints to pitchers.
I'm sure it took hours, but it seemed like only minutes,
for it to reach closing time (for the bar as well as my body). I didn't
fully recover until late the next afternoon. It took a solid meal and
couple of hours admiring the views from Stanley Park to bring my senses
back to life.
That evening, in a more mellow frame of mind, I visited
my bartender friend Oran at The Element Sound Lounge. This is
an upscale yet friendly dance club. I also rediscovered the raucous
Fred's Downtown Tavern. This place really goes off. It combines
a pub attitude with the energy of a club. It's located on Granville
Street just below the much more snooty Fred's Uptown Tavern). Fred may
not be there in Toronto, but he's sure rocking in Vancouver (inside
humor for Torontonians). Had I known about a crazy pub called Carlos
& Bud's at the time, I would have gone there, too. It's located
in an old Shell gas station and the staff asks that you holler at them
to get their attention for another round.
I finished the night at an after-hours party. Oran had
given me an address, which turned out to be in the back of a pizza joint
on the other side of town. It was interesting, but VERY local. Not knowing
anybody (Oran had gone home to his wife) didn't make it worth staying
for much more than an hour.
The next day, I was off to Seattle. I was going there
to get my toes wet (so to speak) we can eventually add the city to our
PubClub destinations. With Portland and Vancouver already on the site,
we would have the entire Pacific Northwest covered.
I never bothered checking a map for the drive down, so
I was anticipating a leisurely Sunday afternoon three-hour trip on some
oceanside road with breathtaking views of a rocky coastline. Yet this
was not the Pacific Coast Highway in California. It was a rural highway
to the border that led to stalled traffic waiting to clear customs.
This was ridiculous. It's not this bad at the San Diego border coming
back from Mexico. I went through the entire Leonard Skynard "Pronounced"
CD waiting to get through – and it contains "Free Bird!"
 Four
hours later, I arrived in the Emerald City and it was sparkling. It's
a fairly new place to me, and this is about all I know about it (besides
Pike Place Market and the Space Needle, of course):
• When the sun it out, Seattle is one of the most beautiful cities
in the U.S.
• Seattle goes through more sunglasses per capita than any
other city in the country. It's the same reason why L.A leads the nation
in umbrella sales.
• While it's often wet here, Atlanta actually receives more annual
rainfall. That's because the rain is a mist or light drizzle.
• Belltown is where the young and single play. During an overnight
visit a few years back, Belltown Billiards was the top pickup
place in town.
• Kurt Kobain started a grunge movement and there's a lot of drugs
here.
• Ducky's Furniture, one of the city's most recognizable
landmarks, is owned by the brother of a friend.
• The Seahawks drafted former Alabama running back Shaun Alexander
to eventually replace Ricky Watters (go Shaun!).
Now, after my visit, here is now what I know about Seattle:
• Weather permitting, Seattle is an excellent walking city.
• That misting stuff is all PR. For two days, it poured and I got
soaked (granted, the media reported it was record rainfall for August).
• Drugs are more prevalent than I had imagined. I passed two deals
going down on an otherwise pristine street in broad daylight.
• Despite the drugs, walking in the downtown area is perfectly
safe, even at night. Seattle prides itself on tourist dollars and goes
to great lengths to protect its visitors.
• This is a young city, having only been founded in the mid-1800s.
It has had several nicknames in its brief history, though I'm still
unclear on why it's now the Emerald City.
• Belltown Billiards is STILL the top pickup spot in town.
Belltown is is one
of the Emerald City's shining jewels – especially on nice
days.
There's more, of course, but those are the statistical
highlights. From a personal perspective, I like Belltown. It's clean,
attractive, has dozens of restaurants and good bars. Biff Winderbaum,
Ducky's owner, suggested I try a place called the Flying Fish
for dinner. It's the best restaurant in this part of town; several of
the city's pro athletes eat here. Now, I don't mean to imply that this
place is popular, but I arrived at 9 and was told there would be a 45-minute
wait for a table. This was on a Monday.
Fortunately, a spot opened up at the bar. This is where
I encountered Carter, a bartender who all but ignored me, yet went well
out of his way to introduce himself to every girl that passed into view.
"Hi, I'm Carter," he would proudly announce while ignoring
my empty wine glass (which I kept slowly pushing closer toward his side
of the bar). Turns out Carter's not such a bad guy. He spent six months
working in Mexico City, an interesting spot for a guy from Seattle to
settle, if only temporarily.
The other bartender, the one who originally took my order
of grilled salmon and chardonnay, was now on the other side of the bar,
having turned in his apron to meet up with a friend, a girl named Del
Rey.
Del Rey proved to be interesting character. She's one
of those agonizingly attractive women, the type who is pretty enough
to make you want to be around but whose mood changes with each flicker
of the candle. This was playing havoc with the bartender's plans.
Eventually, my attention was directed to a new seat neighbor.
He happened to be from my home state of Tennessee. Now, what are the
odds of running into someone from the University of Alabama and the
state of Tennessee in two different Pacific Northwest cities in the
span of three days? Maybe I should have been in Vegas.
My last night in town was a Wednesday. A friend of a friend
had e-mailed, inquiring if I would be interested in meeting out for
a drink. After contemplating this in about the length of time it took
me to read the question, I suggested Belltown. She said sure, though
there was a catch. She lived outside the city and would have to ride
a ferry for an hour to get to there.
To me, this seemed an incredibly inconvenient arrangement
for her, even a bit outlandish. But I guess it's no big deal in Seattle,
for she did it without hesitation. Cari's her name, and she met me at
Belltown Billiards. When I went there at about 9, the place was lively.
By the time she arrived at 10:30, it was out of control. We soon evacuated
to Axis, a martini bar across the street.
Cari's a world traveler and likes remote places like India
(as opposed to The Bartender, who prefers party spots like Mykonos).It
was interesting to compare travel notes, to hear a different perspective
about what makes travel so diverse and wonderful.
It was an interesting evening, in fact, a perfect conclusion
to a great eight days.
The Bartender can be reached at bartender@pubclub.com
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