I used to party. Seriously party. I didn’t even get ready to go out until 11 pm, and then I’d drive all the way to Ybor to join the debauchery. Those days had a time and place in my life, but I don’t miss them.
Even though I’m technically a “college kid,” my weekend bedtime is not far from my school-night bedtime. A glass of wine and a rousing game of Scrabble are a good Friday night.
However, I do still have friends who have not succumbed to a life of quiet domesticity, and sometimes these friends successfully lure me out on the pretense of having “a few drinks.” Last Friday was just such a night.
I got the call, as usual, late in the evening. My friend Bryan and his band, Hey There, Battleship were playing at the Emerald Bar downtown. Did we want to go?
I said yes for several reasons, but the most important one being: I do not want to grow old before my time, a shriveled shell of my former cool self (if such a thing ever existed).
Unfortunately, I forgot to check my calendar.
As many of you know, last Friday was First Friday. In Gulfport that means Art Walk - a chilled out stroll amongst the shops and mellow bands, sipping wine and coffee until the wee hours of 10 pm. St. Pete celebrates the first Friday of the month a little differently.
What I have always called First Friday in St. Pete is actually and officially known as (I am not making this up) “Get Downtown.” As in Get down, town! Groovy, baby.
But, while the name might be a little out of style, apparently everyone and their cousin loves this chaotic block party situated between 2nd and 3rd Streets on Central Avenue. I mean, there must be a million people there. And, while the party is supposed to peter out around 10, the kids in St. Pete are just getting started.
If this sounds like your cup-o-tea, check it out. But, I warn you: parking becomes an Olympic event and you could wait up to a decade for a drink sandwiched in between Paris Hilton wannabes and their cologne-drenched counterparts.
It’s an event I usually skip, if you want to know the truth. I prefer my downtown on the down low. However, Bryan’s band was tuning up around 11, and it’s important to support local music – especially if it’s your friends.
The Emerald is a dive bar on Central Avenue, round about 6th Street. Their profile on AOL’s City Guide (which was apparently written in 1965) sums it up as a hangout for “war vets, musicians, artists, divorcees and other sundry misfits and hipsters.”
That might be true, but here’s my take on it: The Emerald is a raucous smoke den about the size of my first apartment in Boston. It’s one of the last remaining places in St. Petersburg where you don’t have to be something you’re not. When the BayWalk crowd starts to bug you, check out the Emerald.
So there I was, sipping a beer and enjoying the din after Hey There, Battleship attacked the crowd with their three-piece funk. Suddenly I found myself at one of those pivotal points in a night: should I stay or should I go now?
The answer was to go…to the Bishop Tavern on First Avenue North.
When I tell you that Get Downtown was still gettin’ down, I mean it had whipped itself into a dervish-style frenzy and apparently the Bishop was its center point. Under normal conditions, I like the Bishop. It’s comfortable with a hint of 1920s speak-easy style that makes you feel as though a much larger and older city waits outside. However, on the weekends it suddenly turns into a sardine can - only slightly less smelly. There’s even a velvet rope at the entrance which, next to St. Petersburg’s still-small town disposition simply reeks of pretension.
After a twenty minute conversation in line for the bathroom, I booked it over to Don Leoncio’s Cigar Lounge about a block up the avenue.
Ah, the smell of good cigars, big leather couches, lots of imported beer – these are a few of my favorite things, and Don Leoncio’s has them all. The place opened up maybe six months ago, and I have often felt that it’s still searching for its niche. For the record, I don’t think thumping techno and rave kids is it, but maybe Don Leo’s was just trying something new Friday night. Personally, I’d love to see a live salsa band, but that’s just me.
For the last drink of the evening, my friends and I settled into the street seating out front. With the techno a few decibels lower, I was actually able to talk with an old friend I’ve hardly seen since high school. That’s what life in the little-big city is all about.
And for the record, I didn’t hit the sack until 2:30. True story.
Published in The Gabber Newspaper, Gulfport, FL 3/15/07
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