FC1 Western Ave. Stop 24: It's not what you think
You know your tour is over once you stop somewhere for a pint. Then your brain starts asking questions like, "Hey, what about that place further up north, the one with the crazy sign?" OK, could you pass by a place like this without stopping by? It's somewhere around 60th, and my navigator and I decided to scrap the rest of Western to seek it out. It definitely wasn't as exciting or dangerous as it appeared from the outside. Too bad. There were only a couple of customers in there, including an elderly woman who has been coming in for the past 20 years. "Lots of people stop by because of the sign," she said. "Some of them take a look inside, are disappointed, and turn around." Wonder why they might be disappointed.
Inside, the Sexty Sex Cocktail Lounge is not retro--it's the real deal. Mirrors everywhere. Lots of red. Straight out of the 70s. When the guy with a pimp hat walked in, I thought I had stepped into a time warp. Not a bad way to end a tour of Western Avenue.UPDATE: May 4, 2006: OK, I've recently noticed that quite a few people have landed on this page for some reason. Why? And why not check out more recent posts?
posted by teacherman @ 6:11 AM
4 Comments:
Hey, I could even go there!!
For the record the red was naugahyde. Lots of naugahyde. Speaking of pimps that neighborhood just east of the bar was B-A-D. I don’t think that I’ve ever seen a blue light police camera in a neighborhood before. We were lucky to be there early. I wonder what our experience would have been like a couple of hours later.
Well! Since we're setting the record straight, some memories of the afternoon are coming back to me. I now recall that my anonymous friend actually urinated in a porta-potty in the middle of that scary neighborhood. So it couldn't possibly be so B-A-D.
As for the blue light, I personally thought it made the neigborhood look like Christmas ... if your idea of Christmas is having a blue police light flashing into your living room 24 hours a day.
If we’re setting the record straight about the porta-potty, that was in a different bad neighborhood miles away, thank you.
But that does go to show that god works in mysterious ways. Now if he would only cure me of my fear of public urination so one day I too can write “Happ” with really good penmanship.
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