Bar Exam

The weirdest thing about the Buck—and quite possibly the
weirdest thing in the world—is found in the bathroom. And it’s
not so much “found” as it issues a shock to the system from
which one may or may not ever recover. And it’s not so much an “it” as
a “she,” or maybe an It-She. And it’s not giving away the surprise to
tell you what It-She is: You cannot be adequately prepared. Even if
someone has just told you, looking completely undone, “There’s a
COMPLETELY HORRIFYING MANNEQUIN-LADY positioned in a COMPLETELY
HORRIFYING WAY in the semidarkness of the BATHROOM ON THE LEFT such
that IT-SHE GIVES YOU A GODDAMN HEART ATTACK IMMEDIATELY UPON OPENING
THE DOOR,” when you open the door, there is very little chance that
you won’t scream.

Other than the mannequin-lady (who wears a cowboy hat), the Buck is
the anti-thesis of horrifying. Where some Seattle bars affect a saloon
aesthetic that seems intended to be mistaken for vintage reality (some
great bars, e.g., the 9 Lb. Hammer, Linda’s, Redwood), the Buck is so
preposterously, virulently Western themed that its very
existence is both funny and winning. Nearly every bit of wall (the
poor, marooned metal fuse-box door excepted) is paneled
in very
high-gloss faux-log-cabin paneling. This may sound terrible, but the
paneling is a warm blond color, and the place is all squirrelly
shaped with two little bars shoehorned in, and most of the seats
are upholstered one-person booth-style (such that if you push two
tables and the accompanying seats together, voilà:
Frankenbooth!), and furry cushions are available. The decorating does
not stop with the paneling, not by a long shot. There are horseshoes
deployed in different ways (some wear miniature cowboys hats), at least
one bull skull, ambient wagon wheels, saddles made into stools, a
tiny illuminated stagecoach, and much, much more. (Most misplaced
item: a stuffed seagull standing atop a life preserver.) Sign-age is
rampant: BUNKHOUSE, FEEDROOM, COWGIRLS/BOYS, LIL BUCKAROO, CANOE
RENTALS Oars Free, VACANCY (this one in neon). Several signs are in the
windows, already fomenting confusion about what the place is called (it
opened, softly, on Capitol Hill’s Olive Way a week or two ago).

The Buck’s siblings are Bleu Bistro and Chez Gaudy, so the decor is
all-in-the-crazy-family. The food at B.B./C.G. has met with
mixed reviews, but the Buck’s snacks—pesto pizza, nachos made
with the right amount of cheese, rich barbecue brisket—are quite
good. (The brisket could use less sweet, more heat.) Presentations
include cast-iron skillets and planks; service is still finding its way
but doing so gracefully. Bottled beer poured into frosty mugs,
specialty cocktails, and shots served in boot-shaped shot glasses are
available. Bonus: The proprietor offers your choice of miniature
plastic stallions as a keepsake.