100 days. When I go back to work it will be for about 100 days straight. I have to keep reminding myself that tomorrow always comes and this marathon of mild debauchery will end at some point.But not on this fine Tuesday.
We made our plan on Saturday after hitting three spots: St. Andrew's for the Sounders game, The Tin Hat for continued beverages with Not A Wolfgirl, and then quite possibly my new favorite spot, Moon Temple. It was there we decided that on Tuesday we'd take the water taxi to the Alki Tavern for Buck A Burger Day at this famed spot where they claim to be the 10 cent bar with the million dollar view.
So yesterday we meet at the Red Robin on the waterfront for a pre-boarding drink. DHM is a wicked partner in crime as she's equally unemployed and has local Happy Hour knowledge to rival my own. Check that, she's also got a Happy Hour Location app on her smartphone so with the help of the 4Gangsta network her skillz exceeded my bloodhound nose for fining cheap drinks in the afternoon.
Our server is Tim and he's straight outta Fairbanks. They have $2.50 wells starting at 3pm and it is five past the hour. After the first round we disagree on which pier our wannabe booze cruise was leaving from so out comes the cell. To our dismay at 3pm the vessel has had a mechanical breakdown and will be out of service for at least a week. Our simple plan has sunk. Get a second rum and coke.
At first all seems lost but we soon decide we can make Lemon Drops out of these lemons of life. We change the Alki Tavern to co-inside with her brother's rock concert in a couple weeks and move on with a loose plan to milk the schmitt out of that Happy Hour app. We shoot over to Ivar's next door which also has a 3pm start and goes on to infinity. Now I only think of Ivar's for some chowder at Qwest Field or maybe one of their other locations but I'd never really been to THE Ivar's on Alaska Way. Known as the Acre of Clams it turns out we hit the perfect day as not only was this Capt. Kirk's birthday but Ivar's himself as well. To celebrate his 106th they have made all second entrees $1.06 and that goes with the Happy Hour prices as well. Just an insane deal. We get pints of Alaskan Imperial IPA. And shrimp. And fish tacos. And chicken skewers. We chat up a Canadian couple from Vancouver Island and a mixed race couple who look a little lost. Did I need to mention mixed race or should I have just said couple? Idunno. Either way I recommended they check out the Sounders game on Friday or take the stadium tour if they are still in town. Sadly I know the tours start at 12:30pm and 2:30pm from the Pro Shop because I just know things like that. Before moving on I yell HAPPY BIRTHDAY IVAR on the way out the restaurant to a couple claps and something that resembled a cheer then pose with the statue of the legend himself outside.
DHM has a stealth bar she knows of that also popped up on her tricorder called Bernard's. The walk up Seneca St. feels like doing the 400 meter in high school. How did a Seahawks back-up QB get a street named after him and Matt ain't got schmitt? Anywho, Bernard's isn't like most places as it is below street level and has no windows. There is a slight English decor and feels about 5% dungeon in there. The clientele are almost all lawyers, even the guy who comes in and starts playing Irish diddies on an acoustic guitar. At first I'm ready to eye roll and/or roll out but he's actually not bad and his song choices have sort of a FisherPoets ring to them. I go with a double Rum and Coke. $4. Wow. I sip it. WOW! I think Brother J in Renton made it. I thought the Moon Temple drinks were strong (ask me about Garbage Cans) but these are flat out f-wording face changing. We are also told they have free appetizers while they last. Today was pizza but we got there too late. The lawyers ate it all. A lady at the bar overhears our conversation and exclaims how she knows DHM's brother aka The Man With The Eggs and Bacon Tattoo. The musical attorney plays a song for DHM and gives her a CD of his band which reminds me of the joke I heard on KISW:
The sun is gone and neither of us have a clue where to go next so she goes back to the app which points us around the corner to. Sazerac. Fancy. Maybe too fancy. But they have Happy Hour til 8pm and it is five til. I have an Amstel Light (Cheers, Big Carrot) as I look around this place which is connected to the hotel. Everyone is sporting nice threads except the guy in the Naknek hoodie. Usually I don't care if I'm out of place but I was so outnumber by the well dressed and groomed it felt like my Drinking Alamo.
The bartender seems to like our presence as the anti-establishment in the establishment. Reading that is like sneezing. He's definitely got a case of the Tyler Durdens and I could see him with a rubber band sneaking up behind the mayor in the bathroom. He also refers to the greeter girl as Katy Perry's stunt double.
The pretty little thing seated near us laughs like a sea lion belching. The table of blond girls looks like a sorority but the half the guys look barely younger than me. Rich people are weird. Nevertheless the game as been.....established. We are now trying to connect the afternoon happy hours with the late night ones. The barrier is the bridge between 8pm and 10pm although going back to Ivar's would solve this. THERE IS NO GOING BACK!
Our Android friend find a place all the Copper Cart on Bell so we march up 4th towards a bar neither of us knew anything about. The vibe was Snooki. The mini pitchers of Manny's were $5.50. We stayed. Not somewhere I'd go normally but it was serving a purpose by serving price reduced beer in this critical window of time. The Lakers are on and this sours the place a lil more. Our stay is short.
Now on 1st we have lots of options plus it is almost 10pm. We decide on Ohona which adds to the list of places I'd never been to before although I had heard of it. Themed in the South Pacific or Hawaii I go wit' the flow and have a Kona on tap. We order some sushi and Spam Pupus. The Spam on rice block is so good I could giggle. Yet I tell DHM I got the next spot and it can top this spread.
The guy next to me is doing a crossword in the paper and doesn't seem like he wants to interact with the surrounding humans. Other than him everyone is rather festive and friendly I feel so I'm not in any rush to go. But I am. I know what's coming.
Umi. The f-wording Godzilla of sushi. We cross the street and hit this gem that I usually go to only with Chef Boy. It is past 11pm and they are in Late Night Menu mode. I get a Sapporo for $3.50 and order two rolls of the crunchy and one Cali. I know what is coming. To requote myself: The best thing I've ever put in my mouth. DHM tries the crunchy roll and calls it "orgasm on a plate". Another convert. She's instantly converted.
A couple to my right sits down and I recognize the guy immediately. I turn to him and ask if he used to bartend at the Wasabi Bistro and he says yes. I tell him how awesome the service I always got from him and the entire staff at that place and it was why I kept going back (I rarely ate there so I can't speak for the sushi). It was like seeing an old friend and I could almost remember his name.
Drunk, full, and out of money Dutch Harbor grabbed a cab and I walked in circles looking for a bus back to my neighborhood. A guy in a wheelchair was following me asking if I wanted to meet some girls or wanted any coke. He's rolling so fast I couldn't get away if I tried but he soon loses interest in my squareness and in minutes I'm on the #5 headed north. Nine hours is probably enough. No P.I. tonight, just sleep at Camp Snowbird and hopes for no headache in the morning.
