Ice, ice, baby. Ice all day. We didn’t get out much. We definitely didn’t risk Atlanta. I actually got to watch the TV stations I do web sites for. Big breakfast at home. Big dinner at Gus’ Sir Beef (the name doesn’t really fit). We braved the rapidly thawing ice to hit the nightlife again a little after 11.
The Charlotte bars seem a lot more pleasant than I remember them, although it could be the “change of scenery” factor. Oleen’s was as odd as ever. Chaser’s was a tad creepy, with a really small crowd, really flooded bathrooms, and a bartender who resembled a prepubescent junkie. Guess it’s feeling the competition from the new bar across the street. The Masquerade features strippers too and is without flooded bathrooms.
Had a great time at the always “hit or miss” Brass Rail, drinking cheap, playing “Shiny Shiny” on the jukebox, and getting cruised by a couple (only one of whom I was interested in). Then there was this strange game of “surrogate strip pool” in the back. As I have respect for the Brass Rail’s liquor license, I’ll skip the details.
All in all, though, it’s annoying as hell bar-hopping in Charlotte. That southern queer bar tradition of “always a cover” can easily result in spending more at the door than at the actual bar.
Late night food at Athens. I love Athens. I loved it even more when I only lived a block away.
