This weekend I completed all of my catching up on the rapid infusion of new neighborhood bars that opened while I was out of town or being a recluse. On Friday, after a birthday party at McLeod we went to Moe, which used to be the Neumo's back bar before it became the holding place for the Bad Juju. Now, it's all fancy with shiny leafy wallpaper and might be confused for a yuppie institution if it wasn't adjoining a rock club. They also allow you to order pizza from Via Tribulani or fried goodness from Frites (we didn't take advantage of either option).
The jukebox kept attacking our table, so we made a hasty exit to go to the new Cha Cha, which is exactly like the old Cha Cha except completely different. That is, most of the old decorations made it over, as did the bartenders, and the same people, but the shockingly high ceilings and lack of years and years of grime made it feel sort of like how the bar might look if someone made a movie about Seattle circa six months ago and painstakingly recreated it for a set. But with the glorious red lights and surly bartenders, I'm sure that I will soon be accustomed to it. Plus, it means that Bimbo's burritos are a few blocks closer to my house; so forward progress!
Oh! And as the lights came up for last call and angry voices on the intercom insisted that we exit we stepped outside and saw a large penguin on the corner. Of course, the only option was to sprint across the street without regard to traffic to hug it and ask if he was going to the wedding being advertised on a nearby streetsign.
Saturday was a goodbye barbecue in the northern territories. As if having good friends moving out of town isn't bad enough, they're shipping out for Buffalo, of all places.
No brunch on Sunday; so I spent the morning doing things around the house and watching political television. I was pretty excited to complete the new bar tour by going to Presse to while away a couple hours reading the newspaper. When I got there, I was stunned to find that they didn't carry the Sunday New York Times; so I had to make due with the New Yorker (delinquence in renewing meant that I'd missed at least an issue or two, so the bar's newsstand was of much assistance) while snacking and drinking.
The caffeine and beer had me all set to jump on the good ship iPhone, but the neighborhood at&t store had sold out.
Another evening in a different part of Seattle in the north, this time for desserts and coffee. When the company had dwindled, three of us hopped into a convertible and went back to Presse for dinner and more drinks. Hooray for small, close-tabled, late night cafe eating, drinking, and dining opportunities in relative proximity to my apartment!
Nifty things that acquired today: diploma, iPhone.