The Happy Hour.

In an effort to redeem itself for its hard-to-come-by Hard A at prices that Bill Gates would grumble about, Seattle offers the awesomeness that is the happy hour.

I know, I know, plenty of other cities also offer the happy hour. But, due to everyone's seemingly incessant need to drink, which is caused by 60 days of sunshine a year, Seattle establishments often offer two happy hours. TWO! For example, a bar might offer a happy hour from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m., with another happy hour from 9 p.m. to 11 p.m. Just in case you missed it the first time around.

It has become a favorite Friday night activity of mine to end the work day with a happy hour beverage. From there, the goal is to drink at happy hour prices for as long as possible. Start at bar A, which boasts an HH until 7 p.m. Bar B, 3 blocks up, continues its HH until 8 p.m. Another hour is bought. 8 p.m. to 9 p.m. is the hardest hour to cover, as usually the earliest late night happy hours don't begin until 9 p.m. This means skillfully coasting on the last HH beverage (purchased at 7:58 p.m.) for about 30 minutes, at which point the trek to the next destination commences. The perfect ETA for bar C is 9 p.m., though running ahead of schedule can lead to a few minutes of awkwardly drinking a glass of water while looking over the menu for anywhere from 5 to 15 minutes until the magic hour appears once again. This scenario is where the fabulosity that is the Noc Noc comes in.

The Noc Noc, which is my favorite happy hour spot, provides its relief from full prices from 5 p.m. to 9 p.m. The lost hour is automatically covered! And that's just the start. I could devote a whole blog to this bar, so I'll stick with what's important: $1 beers, $2 wells, and $3 tater tots. Yes, that's right. Tots, bitches. If you're not sold this bar based on the tots alone, then you may not deserve to share the same planet with me. Regardless, it's a great place to transition into the late-night happy hours.

Those who know me may be surprised to see my excitement over $1 beers, for I have not always been a fan of the beer. For years, I was a strict Captain and Coke woman. So strict, in fact, that I used to carry around an "emergency" fifth in the trunk of my car (what if the party I was gracing the presence of was not down with the CapMo?). The happy hour has changed my drinking habits, for two main reasons:

1. Seattle seems to be a Pepsi city. I am constantly getting asked the question "is Pepsi OK?", and in the case of one particular place, "is RC OK?" (Royal Crown cola? Out of a fountain? Really?). Normally, Pepsi is OK in place of Coke--except when mixing it with alcohol. Though I love it, Pepsi is far to sweet for mixin'.
2. Captain is not a well rum. It's not top shelf, I realize, but it's also not ever at happy hour pricing. So, while all of my friends were enjoying their lower-priced beers and vodka-tonics, I was paying full price to get a little Captain in me. Happy hours just weren't as happy.
   

So Seattle, I tip my (rain-soaked) cap to you for your low priced social drinking options, and also for encouraging me to join the beer drinking community. Arriba, abajo, al centro, y adentro!

The Liquor Trek.

I was in Fred Meyer one day (which I adore, and is a topic for a whole other day) picking up my weekly groceries (and some jeans, and mascara, and condoms. See why I adore it?). I was pushing my shopping cart up and down the aisles, selecting various necessities to fill my wheeled basket: apples, pasta, chicken, milk, snap peas (snack-tastic), bread, etc. Personally, no grocery shopping trip is complete without certain thirst quenching items, particularly of the fermented kind. After perusing the wine selection for a nice sauvignon blanc, closely followed by the beer section for some cider and microbrew, it donned on me that I had some margarita mix taking up much-coveted space in the refrigerator. Taco night!

Still standing in the beer’s chill, I was trying to think of where the alcohol was stashed in my beloved Freddy’s. I started wandering around, hoping the location of my desired Reposado would come to me, perhaps in a vision. After about 5 minutes (but what seemed like an eternity), my cart came to a slow halt and I came to a slow realization: I could not find the alcohol because it didn’t exist. Not at Freddy’s, anyway. For in this lovely state, one must travel to a store devoted to hard alcohol in order to purchase it. As if the sin tax wasn’t enough, you have to go out of your way to pay it.

To top it all off, I had conjured up my amazing taco night idea on none other than a Sunday. Not only was I not going to get tequila at Fred Meyer, I was going to have a hard time getting it at most liquor stores. Because the state-run purveyors of heaven that offer their wares on Sundays are few and far between.

Now, I know Washington isn’t alone in the state-run liquor stores (I’m not trying to leave you out, Montana). It’s just not something that some other states (California comes to mind) have to deal with. I suppose I should be happy that I can at least buy beer and wine on Sundays, and in every county (cut your residents a break, Texas), but I sure do miss the ability to buy replacement rum at 1:15 am.