Volume 4, Issue 11
May 30, 2002 - June 12, 2002
by Rob Williams
Summer. The chance to kick back and watch the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes. Nothing like a lazy afternoon and a cold margarita in your hand, looking smooth behind your Black Flys while everyone else is rushing home, or back to the office. You nod and smile and make small talk with the waitstaff. You get pleasantly buzzed until it gets pleasantly dark and you have wasted the whole day. Ahhhhh....bliss.
You do know what I'm talking about, right? What? You don't spend your Thursday afternoons sipping 100% blue agave nectar? Why the hell not? After all. . . it's Thursday. Call it Thor's Day and take the afternoon off. Sneak out early and follow my lead. You need three things. Money. Sunglasses. A Patio. We'll get to the booze --as long as you have the money the booze will come, hopefully served up by someone attractive and flirty. You rush to the ATM, you stop off at Sunglass Hut and you are actually skipping out early. If you are like me, you also grab a couple of Go-Go models like Shannon and Lodore for your afternoon respite.
On Monday, Lodore had suggested an unlikely patio in the heart of the city. Colfax and York, home of The Bank. No, not the bank where you get your checks cashed, rather The Bank that serves up 2 for 1 happy hours, (with nifty little tokens to give to the waiter when you want your second, rather than that annoying bring 'em both at once service) and margs are $2 off. So what if the sound of traffic burning by is loud enough to rattle the front window? The people watching is astounding. The waitstaff is friendly, and though the patio is small, there are plenty of umbrellas to keep the sun from scorching your vampiric nightlifer skin to a crispy bacon-like texture. Speaking of that, let's talk food. I generally don't like to eat when it's hot out but my Go-Go girls don't live on booze alone. Soon steaming plates of chicken wings and wood fired pizza were cluttering the table alongside my tokens. Let me just say: no one can clean a chicken wing like Shannon. We stayed well into early evening before the start of the Avs playoffs. Lodore had started a trend. Next thing I knew on Wednesday we were back at it. Playing hooky at 2:30 at Govnr's Park. This time with my editor Alex in tow. Ever see a grown woman skip? That's how happy Lodore was to be sipping cold Mexican beer while the rest of the wage slaves labored on in air conditioned, climate-controlled gulags around the city.
If you have never been to Gov's let me make one suggestion: The Connoisseur Margarita. Patron, Grand Marnier, lime juice . . all the goodies, served up in a heavy glass goblet you could bludgeon a surly Red Wings fan with. It's a heavy glass but the contents are oh, so lightly refreshing. If that isn't your thing you can always opt for the 2 for 1 beers, house 'ritas and Long Islands from 4-7.
Gov's Patio is enormous and the whole thing can be enclosed from the elements, so even if it rains you won't lose your seat. Even if you get hit with a legendary late May snowstorm.
One small complaint I had with Gov's . . the menu says they have gazpacho, which is perhaps the best food known to man during a long hot summer day on a patio whilst sipping icy tequila. However, when I ordered it I was told, "Sorry we are out, however we have a nice beer cheese soup." Who outside of a Packers fan would eat hot thick cheesey stew when it's 80 plus degrees outside? I opted for a chicken Caesar instead and we ordered more liquor and awaited the arrival of Shannon. As it turns out we needed it.
By the time you read this our mighty Avalanche may (or may not) be vying for Lord Stanley's Cup. And this is in part why we picked Gov's Park for our long lazy afternoon. Hidden in the back, far away from the patio is a large room featuring giant TVs and pool tables. The ideal place to drink and be merry while threatening Fedorov with a piece of wood in your hand. The waitstaff is used to these sort of hijinks, and had no problem weaving in and out of the traffic created by surly Av's fans cheering and jeering and making caustic threats of bodily violence to the glowing screens. They calmly smile as the fans scream into question the genetic heritage of Hull and Robitaille. They are used to it.
Not that Gov's is openly friendly to outlaw bikers and truckers on E-pills, but they do respect the needs of sports fans --well, hockey fans anyway. Even when we lose. By the time Shannon arrived our roller coaster ride of a game was finished. Overtime loss. Nothing kills the appetite for liquor like a loss. When you win, you buy your pals shots --and let's face it, sometimes the whole room can be your friend. But with a loss --well let's just say your only friend is a bottle in a paper bag that you suckle in the dark muttering to yourself.
Luckily for us, Shannon got us right out of that mood with a bit of impromptu song and interpretive dance and a suggestion that next Friday we all kick off early, go to the zoo and maybe hit some more patios. Spot on! Because really, there is nothing like a sunny patio to brighten up a gloomy night before, especially when shared with friends.
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