The Most Fun You Can Have With Your Clothes On, Apparently
All right, look. Seattlest is just going to come out and say it. Sometimes, there’s nothing better than a wee drink. Or two. And if they’re cheap, even better. Not to mention free drinks – offer us free drinks and we'll ask you to marry us.
But twice in the past week or so, we’ve had drinking experiences unlike what we were expecting. The first was at Premier, a club located a stumble away from Safeco. This place is huge! Not only is the bar itself long enough to house 4-5 bartenders comfortably, but there’s a large event facility attached where one could host parties of hundreds of people. On your average weeknight, however, the bar is fairly empty. Which is why we were confused when we got our beers in plastic glasses. What? Did the dishwasher break? Did you run out of actual glasses on the 20 other patrons? As our companion said, “Welcome to my dorm room.” We eventually shook it off and enjoyed a nice night at the ballpark.
Last Friday we had an experience pretty much the opposite of the one we had at Premier. Perhaps you’ve heard of Pioneer Square’s newest dueling piano bar, Howl at the Moon? Perhaps someone you know has even won a party there? They seem to be giving them away like Paris Hilton at a frat party. Seattlest alone knows three people who’ve won parties there. Every Friday night they pack about 4 parties of 100 people each into this place, fill ’em up with alcohol, and let them loose. Even so, with upwards of 400 people there, we got every single drink in a glass. No plastic here, and that makes the drinking experience so much better, no?
The deal that comes with these parties is probably one of the sweetest drinking deals in town. Your first two drinks are 75 cents, and every drink after that is half off. Seattlest bought three gin and tonics for $2.25. We tipped more than we drank, just to put an even $5 on our debit card. We think this price more than made up for the weird people who were there, the slight personal stress of the evening, and the general strangeness of the atmosphere. At one point, a woman dressed up like a slutty nurse came around offering jello “shots” in a big, phallic needle. Combine this with sing-alongs from Bob Dylan to Kelly Clarkson, and you will begin to see what I’m talking about.
But three drinks for $2.25? It’s enough to make us enter for our own party. If we win, we promise to invite you.
