Most bars are so five minutes ago. While I love trying the trendy/beautiful-people spots, my attention span is shorter than the dresses on Dancing With the Stars. After I’ve experienced the shlock of the new, I’m usually on to the Next Big Thing or retreating to an old standby for…
In this space, I’ve dehumanized Denver’s homeless to a disgusting degree (The Ginn Mill, October 4), comparing them to open-sored, echolalic zombies worthy of scorn and contempt. I’ve also championed our city’s homeless (Star Bar, October 11), celebrating one man as a hardworking, down-on-his-luck type of guy worthy of my…
When I lived in Manhattan, my office was next to one of the city’s oldest bars: P.J. Clarke’s. As a relatively new legal drinker, I was fascinated by that bar’s century-old history and the classic cocktails it served to well-heeled Midtown businessmen. And when I moved back to Denver and…
Maggie and I arrive at Pat’s Philly Steaks and Subs (1624 Market Street) just in time for fifty-cent beers. Except according to the bartender, there’s no such thing. “Fifty-cent beers?” Charlie growls at us. “You think you’re going to find fifty-cent beers anywhere in this town? Shit, man. I get…
I planned a girls’ weekend up in Beaver Creek when I doubted the Rockies would even make the playoffs, let alone the World Series. So the last Saturday in October, there we were in the mountains, hunting for a place to watch game three. First we tried E-Town, but between…
During the two-plus years I’ve lived in Denver, I’ve watched the menu at Atomic Cowboy (3237 East Colfax Avenue) transform from a one-page leaflet offering mini-corn-dog nugs and potent garlic fries to an impressive array of American-meets-Southwestern options (including some of the richest mac-and-cheese in town); I’ve watched Tuesday nights…
As a closet Real World junkie, I was excited to visit Theorie. I’d watched The Real World: Denver and was dying to see what the new owners had done with the building that housed the show. And I heard they’d done plenty, renovating the joint from top to bottom —…
There’s something to be said for an almost-empty bar. Actually, there’s a lot to be said for it. For me, the benefits begin with being able to belly up, a privilege I enjoy on more than one visit to Dixons Downtown Grill (1610 16th Street). As any barfly will tell…
Sushi Den is one of a handful of restaurants in Denver that never disappoint. I’ve never had a bad waiter, meal or evening there. And I guess most everyone in Denver agrees, because when I went to Sushi Den one recent Saturday night, the place was packed to the gills…
It’s been almost ten years since I last puked. Ten years without a flu vomit, a binge-drinking barf or even so much as a little spit-up. I used to be very proud of this — of the fact that on my 21st birthday, I drank 21 shots in two hours…
What would Britney do? At one time, she was the biggest pop star on the planet; now her name is just another term for vagina (when used in a sentence: “Her skirt was so short, when she bent over I saw her Britney”). One day, in a silent protest of…
No best out of three. No deliberation about what number we’re going to count to before throwing. No time to over-think things. This is drunken Rock Paper Scissors, and the loser has to pee in the sink. But it’s no big deal. In fact, it’s my idea. As fourth in…
Before Colorado’s no-smoking law took effect, I would venture into one of Denver’s classic dive bars knowing full well that after a few hours there, I’d have to go home and disrobe on my back porch so that the stench of stale cigarette smoke wouldn’t seep into the smoke-free sanctuary…
I’m just starting to peel back the label on my third Bud when Terry slides onto the stool next to me at the last great dive on Larimer Street. I’m at Star Bar (2137 Larimer) to watch the Rockies’ post-season tie-breaker game against the Padres; Terry’s here because he works…
Sometimes I ask questions that I already know the answer to — just to make sure the world is spinning correctly on its axis. Why do birds fly south for the winter? Why are bald heads shiny? Why are holier-than-thou conservatives always the ones busted in scandals? So when I…
During my first two years as a Coloradan, I lived in Capitol Hill. Not the Wild Oats or Queen Soopers Capitol Hill; not the Bender’s or Chipotle or Lancer Lounge Capitol Hill; not the Charlie Brown’s or Table 6 Capitol Hill. No, fuckin’ Rent-A-Center, Famous Pizza, Scooter Liquors, Burger King…
College was a very intoxicating time for me, as it was for many people I know, especially my brethren who went to Big Ten universities in small, liberal Midwestern towns like Champaign, Illinois; Ann Arbor, Michigan; and Madison, Wisconsin. But my time in Iowa City was different. When I showed…
There are a few things that I know for sure, and one is that I’m not hip. When I was younger, I thought I was, and/or tried to be, but now I know for sure that I’m not hip, that I’ve never been hip, and that no amount of trying…
This is how utterly shitfaced our bartender is: He’s considerably more drunk than I am, and I’m in 1:30-a.m., slumped-over-the-bar, double-fisting-PBRs kind of shape. But I’m happy, and so is he. I can tell from the way he grins and laughs every time he over-pours one of Darren’s whiskey and…
I have a very simple policy about eating meals while drinking: I don’t. Not, at least, when my goals for the night include over-inebriation. Snacks and appetizers? Fine. But big, juicy bacon cheeseburgers with jalapeño cream cheese and a side of fries? Sweet Christ, never while boozing, and never, ever…
I’m a sucker for fish, which I like watching (tank), catching (fly) and eating (raw). But I don’t eat what I catch, nor do I enjoy seeing fish that I’ll soon be served being taken out of a tank. As with beef — I don’t adopt the cows I’ll later…
The Photo Atlas is already into its second or third song by the time I get to the Marquis Theater (2009 Larimer Street). Adam Lancaster, who runs Morning After Records, the band’s label, meets me out front. We head straight for the bar and order two of the club’s signature…
