We walk to the neighborhood bar

Chelan Cafe's Ebb Tide Room, Seattle, Washington
It’s great to be able to walk to a bar. It’s an even better thing to be able to walk home from a bar. This is our second week in Seattle, we moved into a duplex near the West Seattle Bridge on the Fourth of July. We live along the Duwamish Waterway, and from our front porch we can see the Seattle skyline. And Ebb Tide is a bar we can walk to.

Chelan Cafe looks like an all American diner in the front of the building, while the bar, the Ebb Tide Room, is off to the side. You can enter the bar either through the cafe (that’s what we did) or through the door on the side of the building. The bar has a lot of maritime decor, like lanterns, a ship captain’s wheel, pirate flags, and a big “Port of Seattle” sign. Almost as prominent, though, is the other decor theme: the Seattle Seahawks. The number 12, the jersey number which the NFL team retired in honor of the fans (“the twelfth man” playing for the team), is displayed in several places.

But it’s baseball season now, so the Mariners were on TV (not doing well against the Rockies). Another TV showed poker games. Plenty of people were sitting at tables, and the front part of the bar was full, so we found seats toward the back of the bar, then hesitated in confusion when Mindy saw a plaque on the bar in front of her seat saying the spot was reserved. The bartender assured us that we could sit there. We meant to ask about it, but forgot as we decided what we wanted to drink.

Mindy ordered a screwdriver, and I got an Ace Cider (from Graton, California). The bartender gave us food menus. We’d just had dinner at home, so we didn’t plan to order food, but the bartender looked kind of sad and said, “They’re closing soon, but they don’t mind. I told them you were here.”

We ordered onion rings. They were very hot and crisp when they arrived a few minutes later.

A couple of men sat at the bar next to me. After Mike and Jones got their cans of Guinness, I asked if they’d mind answering the two questions we always ask in bars. They agreed.

When I asked what made for a good bar, Mike said, “Good people is the biggest thing, just there to shoot the sh*t.” He said they came to have a good time, talking to people like he was that night. He felt that people were looking for a change of pace from a day at work.

I asked him how important a good selection of drinks was and he didn’t feel it was very important. He likes good whiskey, but there aren’t many places around that have really good bourbon.

Jones agreed, saying a good bar needed, “Good bar conversations. If no one talks to you, they turn their backs, it’s not comfortable.” I asked him if it mattered what those conversations were about. He didn’t think so, though the conversations would often be about sports.

When I asked our second question, Jones said, “Church serves a similar purpose as a bar, a community, a social network.”

Mike said, “I don’t want to sound cynical, but I’ll never go to a church. My mom was kicked out when she was divorced. The people she thought were her friends gave her a cold shoulder. My sister was really religious, but the same thing happened to her.” He said he believes in a Higher Power, but he’ll never go to church. One time Mormons came to his door, and when he told them his point of view, they were dumbfounded. They left, leaving literature behind.

We talked for a while longer, then paid and got up to leave. Jones caught me at the door, because I’d left my notebook and pen behind. I thanked him, and then Mindy and I enjoyed the eight-minute walk home in the pleasant evening light and the very pleasant weather, with the pleasant knowledge that we could always walk back.