Definition: A type of motorcycle, built to be especially fast; a term born in ’60s Europe, referring to a specific motorcyclist counterculture; a wildly revered neighborhood bar and eatery in the
U-District, the main draws of which are…
The OBAMA: The Official Bad Art Museum of Art—a multimedia treasury of forgotten masterpieces. (Highlights include Jesus portrayed in an arrangement of Peeps and the haunting “Lobster Lady,” wherein a woman mournfully regards her lobster. The lobster’s apparent hopefulness only compounds the piece’s devastation.)
Cafe Razor: It’s a mini hair salon that occupies a separate division of the lounge. (Bonus if you’re into misshapen naked ladies—Razor also doubles as the OBAMA’s sexy-art division!)
Happy hours: Daily 4–7 pm.
Happy-hour drink specials: $1.25 Rainier tallboys, $1.50 PBR drafts, $3.75 drafts (Pike’s Kilt Lifter, Nine Pound Porter), $3.50 well drinks, $5 well calls.
Happy-hour food specials: None, but there are plenty of remarkably budget-friendly options on the late-night menu ($1.95 grilled cheese, $2.95 tater tots).
So happy am I to see featured here not one, but TWO establishments that are not on Capitol Hill. For it is not unknown that The Stranger columnists and reviewers rarely ever venture out of walking distance from the Hill. Even more delightful is that these two are excellent places that I frequent quite a bit, Cafe Racer being the most frequented of the two. Hazaah for you, Marti, for venturing where no Stranger writer has gone before ( I know Miss B.J Clemens had reviewed the place before, but that was the most pointless, shitty-ass, hackneyed, useless review I have ever seen, even bordering on insulting, the way she butchered the name [without bothering to correct it] of the beloved house band [it’s God’s Favorite BeefCAKE, not BeefCurtains, you senseless slubberdegullion]) Thank you, thank you, thank you! And sorry for the rant.
Not true, seriously. The Stranger reviews non-Capitol Hill businesses all the time.
That review by Clemens was pretty fair, I don’t get at all where all what Seahag is going off about. And the old Cafe mailing list distorted the name of God’s Favorite Beefcake in a new way each week, so the writer’s confusion is pretty understandable.
But that isn’t important, what is important is that you forgot to mention how nice the people at Cafe Racer are and how lovely it is to spend a Happy Hour with them.