This magical gloom-dispelling website—the placeholder for a bar that’s coming soon to our not-so-fair city—courtesy of Slog commenter spokevin over here. Click and keep clicking ’til you feel better.

25 replies on “Rain, Rain, Go Away”

  3. Look At This Fucking Hipster Bar…

    Each time I click, the urge to kill rises just a little bit.

    Aren’t ironic hipster unicorns kinda ‘done’ along with the ironic moustaches, trucker hats, danger-stranger neck-beards, and fake-faded-but-actually-brand-new 80s video game console t-shirts, like, five years ago?

  4. There used to be a medieval themed restaurant on the Ave called the Unicorn; I believe it was a reference to a bar that appeared in a popular series of fantasy novels from the late ’70s. It closed in 1992. They made yummy sandwiches and a waitress there gave me a celebratory bottle of expensive mineral water when I decided not to joint the Army. Somehow I think the new place won’t have as much character, but that may just be my OG Seattle kick.

  5. @3: You’re so hip for hating hipsters. It’s the trendy thing to do now. Even hipsters hate on hipsters for being hipsters.

    And so out of the mainstream!

    You’ve out-hipstered the hipsters.

  7. “You’ve out-hipstered the hipsters…”

    Damn straight. While those damn kids strut around in their ‘old skool’ tapered jeans and ringer tees, I’m going to one-up the whole lot of ’em by playing a harpsichord solo in a powdered wig and frock coat, and snorting snuff instead of coke.

  10. 3: Look At This Fucking Hipster Bar… Each time I click, the urge to kill rises just a little bit.

    Think you’re angry now. Just wait until Mullet opens.

  11. @8: No way. Carrying a not-medically-necessary cane as a prop would be over-the-top and pretentious.

    I can be a foppish dandy just fine any day of the week (except for alternating Wednesdays, Mondays before 11am, and some bank holidays) just fine without a cane.

    Unnecessary hankercheifs and fans, however, are non-negotiable.

    I’ll also need a horse carriage and entourage of footmen to get to my harpisichord gigs at Neumo’s, and a…

    Wait. This is starting to sound like an Adam Ant or Falco video shoot.

    Which are totally 80s ironic.

    Fuck. Now *I’m* a hipster! Augh!

  12. 3, well done!

    You reminded me of Todd Snider’s “Talkin’ Seattle Grunge Rock Blues”…

    Now to fit in on the Seattle scene
    We gotta do somethin’ they ain’t never seen.
    So, thinkin’ up a gimmick one day
    We decided to be the only band that wouldn’t play — a note.
    Under any circumstances.
    Silence …music’s original alternative.
    . . .
    Well, we blew ’em away at the Grammy show,
    by refusin’ to play and refusin’ to go.
    And then just when we thought fame would last forever,
    Along come this band that wasn’t even together.
    Now, that’s alternative …hell, that’s alternative to alternative.

  16. @14: Self-loathing is so in.

    I went to the Cuff in my leather jacket, which is ironic since I’m a vegetarian, and I thought, “god, these folks are all happy to be here! What gives?”

    I strolled up to the bartender and asked for a Pibber and he says, “they’re $2” and I say, “wow, this place isn’t ironic, it’s legitimate!”

    So then I went home and cried into my hand-knitted snuggie while reading Paper and listening to my MGMT vinyl.

  19. I don’t “hate on” *all* hipsters.

    Just the part about “deliberately deciding to convince yourself to like stuff that sucks”, like unicorns, Care Bears, Rainbow Brite, and all the Spin Art / Lite Brite / Atari 2600 / Chutes and Ladders adult-boychild that-stuff-was-lame-when-it-was-new crap.

    There’s something about the “trying to be cool by (literally and figuratively) clothing yourself in the least cool stuff you can think of” aspect that just doesn’t sit well with me. In a way not dissimilar to “grunge” flannel-and-long-underwear probably originating out of I’m-broke-and-it’s-fucking-cold-here necessity, and turning into $80 shirts at Nordstrom’s.

  21. @20: it’s different (in my Target house-brand generic DayQuil addled mind, anyway) if one *actually* likes that stuff. “I like what I like, if that makes me uncool, so be it” versus “look at this horrible Jazzercise outfit I found at Value Village, this is so hideous it’ll totally get me laid at the Comet on Friday”.

    However, stuff that’s Care-Bears-and-magic-sparkly-unicorns happy and rainbow-colored crosses my “so disgustingly happy and innocent it’s creepy” threshold, and needs to be piled up into a mountain along with electronic dolls that talk, “free hugs”, and those creepy paintings of kids with disturbingly large doe-eyes by that one chick, and set on fire.

    Because if you don’t, that stuff will totally get Chucky-style posessed and attack you in your sleep like in horror movies that feature clowns and dolls. Anything that cute can’t be trusted.

  22. Just wait until you see the bar guys. You’ve got it all wrong. Sure the website is all Lisa Frank sparkles, it’s a placeholder, a distraction. The bar itself has a very different vibe, I assure you. It’s more of a vintage French circus crossed with Sailor Jerry with a dash of Ernest Hemingway. It’s not a cheap, ironic throwback, it’s sophisticated, well considered and magical.

    Just you wait.

  23. I’m glad you hate the website, #3. That means you’ll hate the bar. And that means I won’t have to sit next to your misguided, reactionary ass at the bar.

  24. @4 – Judah

    I remember the Unicorn on the Ave, though I recall it being more English-pub themed than medieval. The bar area looked like it was transported straight from London. I wonder who he sold it to.

    What I loved was that the seating in the bar area consisted of a single long table (ah – okay – that felt medieval), so if you weren’t dining, you were forced to sit with strangers. Excellent concept – and unusually social for a Seattle bar.

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