Ginger Knoxx: The art of barhopping

By weeklyvolcano on April 20, 2006

Gingerknoxx_3PERMANENT LIPSTICK by Ginger Knoxx
What are the differentiating factors between same-old, repetitive activities and ones that you just enjoy doing repetitively? Perception? Age? Level of involvement? I think all of the above. When I say I hate "returning to the scene of the crime" I'm talking about going to the same place I was the night before. Typically I like to put a few days of grace before a return visit, you know, to let the staff forget how loudly I laughed as I was loving on my vodka or perhaps to let some of the things I said fade from memory. And then there's the strong desire to apologize to the bartender (all of my bartenders are familiar with this peculiar habit of mine) - even if nothing out of line occurred.

Wednesday, April 12

Lunch with Handsome at this little sushi joint over in University Place was an up-close and personal look at what fast food must be like in Japan. Ours arrived so quickly we were sure it was premade, but no, the sushi chef was whirling knives and wrapping seaweed so fast we paused, mouths agape. Handsome has recently moved back to T-town. Thank gawd. Summer's coming - let the champagne flow.

Friday, April 14
Girls' night, how I love thee! Chesty Meoww picked me up in her red vintage car that just got healthy enough to hit the road. We met up with Nasty Natasha at Commencement Bay Coffee Company down on 25th and Jefferson for the University of Puget Sound rowers' fund-raiser. Hat Trick played some cool blues. I adore the Hammond B3 organ so much. Natasha was a delight. Chesty's cousin joined us as we giggled ridiculously sharing stories from college party days. Chesty Meoww and naughty girl discovered their mutual love of all things Fluevog, making them official heel sisters for life. As the sun dipped, we took Natasha to Tempest for her first time. Immediate love occurred. How could you not dig that place? Boyfriends started dropping by, and we had to insist it was girls' night, dammit. Classic beauty Ebony and surfer good looks girl Jay popped in. We tried to make it to Hell's Kitchen for the Fawking Eagles but were informed by Smooth and Lovely Lady L that we had indeed procrastinated too long and missed out. On to Magoo's it was! Packed and packed was the shape of the neighborhood bar. Shots anyone? Yes, thank you very much. Europa Fredo demanded to meet Naja, so I did the honors. Heard the sad news that Scott Turner will no longer be singing for The Forgery. Bummer that. At least the split was amicable. We can look forward to new incarnations on both ends. Smooth and his lady gave me a lift home after declaring that I had been at my funniest that night. Really? I thought I was just doing my usual line of sarcastic talking.

Saturday, April 15

And ta-da! Scene of the crime: Tempest.  Deja  vu doesn't even describe it. Arriving a bit early, I heard my name being called by a female voice from the round table, my favorite place to sit - close to the bar, sort of tucked back, ample space for crowding friends in but still with a view of the door. Hot mama Kate B looked stunning in her jet-black tank and jeans. Hard to believe she has a wee one with that fit form. Artist James Hume, who was the whole reason for the night, scolded me for trying to walk by without hugging him. The Frenchman was in attendance with his lovely lady, and even Film Club Jon stopped in. Lynn Di Nino came by to view Hume's newest offerings, a series of the female form titled "Strip Show." It was a bit campy and fun, with a hot woman striping clothes off the paintings to classic stripper music. Priceless. At 10 p.m., we rallied the troops and zipped down the block to Supernova Hair Salon for a free show with Southern/Black Sabbath/stoner rock band Mos Generator. That ruled. Big J and Rob hung tight, promising to show "Limbo" at his place the next afternoon IF the movie could be nailed down. Naja played fabulous hostess at the show and promised to meet us at the Side Door after it was cleaned up. Smooth and his lady begged off and headed out. An unnecessary cocktail with the devil, I mean Mr. G, was the curtain call for me. I took my barhoppin' booty home to The Italian. Sweet.

As Thursday is the big Stoner Holy Day of the year, I feel the need to leave you with some beloved words of Ben Harper: "If you don't like my fire, then don't come around. 'Cause I'm gonna burn one down."

Give me a wink and a kiss right here. Knoxx knows.