The quickest way to kill a perfectly good happy-hour buzz is with
food. Sure, cheap Kobe beef sliders or tuna-wasabi tacos sound good
after a long day of nine-to-five drudgery, but let’s face it, you came
to happy hour to get drunk. However, when you’ve got a menu full of
greasy food staring you in the face, it can be hard to say no. So, it’s
best to just cut out the middleman—and not risk
temptation—by hitting up a bar that can’t be bothered to let you
eat on the cheap at happy hour. Why spend $10 on a burger when you can
have four beers instead?
Jules Maes Saloon (5919 Airport Way S, 957-7766, happy hour
daily 3—7 pm), a fixture in Georgetown since 1888, is all
business at happy hour. Their $3 well drinks and microbrews (nine on
tap) and $1.50 PBRs will buy you a pretty cheap one-way ticket to
shit-faced city. The bar’s back room features pinball machines, pool
tables, and Skee-Ball—a rare treat in Seattle—and the
majority of the bar is dimly lit, so it’s easy to skulk in one of the
large comfortable booths while you knock back a pint or 12.
While the price is right, the bar’s aesthetics leave something to be
desired. Jules Maes’s walls are adorned with a series of dusty
black-and-white photographs of the bar’s olden days. From the pictures,
it’s easy to imagine Jules Maes as an old sawdust-floored watering
hole, where rough-and-tumble blue-collar workers came to booze it up
after a long day. However, the Jules Maes of today feels more like the
bastard child of Disneyland and T.G.I. Friday’s that was sent to an
orphanage, only to be adopted and raised by Archie McPhee. Perched
above the glossy wood bar and booths, Johnny Cash posters and skulls
dressed up in Santa caps reek of feigned eclecticism, which makes Jules
Maes feel more like Frontierland than a genuine old-time saloon.
Nevertheless, if you like your bars dark, Jules Maes is one of the few
worthwhile stops down on Airport Way South.
Speaking of dark bars, Fremont’s ToST (513 N 36th St,
547-0240, happy hour daily 5—8 pm) is practically a cave. ToST’s
atmosphere—thick curtains drawn over the windows and
hanging-blue-lantern mood lighting—is offset by its
wallet-friendly happy hour ($5 cocktails, $2.50 draft beers, $3 well
drinks), but the space is less than welcoming when it’s still light
outside.
One bartender, after being asked about the beer selection, points to
the selections—nearly impossible to see in the low
light—and grumbles “bottles, taps.” Most everything in the
bar—walls, floor, etc.—is painted black, and the small
stage in the back makes it feel more like a dark theater. Indeed, ToST
(pronounced “toast” or “tossed” depending on your inclination) has an
open-mic night. On one evening, no one had signed up to go on, long
after the 7:00 p.m. start time, which might have been for the best.
