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PERMANENT LIPSTICK: Jaunt to Seattle

South sound adventures at clubs, resturaunts, and my favorite hangouts

Ginger Knoxx

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Anytime I get out of town, I feel like the verse from Primus' song "Jerry was a Race Car Driver."  A verse in it says, "it was a rare occasion that he did."  Change the he to a me, I mean she, and that is how often I escape the city limits.  Being a world traveler in a holding pattern is not an easy thing for one with a restless spirit. You, dear reader, may have noticed this by my incessant barhopping and inability to stay at one venue for more than say, 30 minutes. I have been known to pull a quick hit and run: arrive, slam down a shot, chat with the bartender, survey the room, listen to half a song from the band and hug the doorman on my way out. Other times, I love where I am so much that I hate to leave, but that is a rare occasion and is why I absolutely must share with you my recent jaunt to Seattle:

After many attempts, GO MUSIC and I finally hit Seattle together. We had din din at the ALIBI ROOM. I forced down one of the strongest Vodie 7's ever. It beat the stiffy TACOMA'S KARAOKE JOINT GLORIA'S serves. We scarfed marvelous blackened halibut and cream sauced lobster ravioli. Maybe I was the only one scarfing?  It was to die for. Across the street at THE SHOWBOX, we caught the second half of ROBOSAPIENS. They ruled. The female lead sang one song in a strange male falsetto. I swear the chorus was something about a super rooster, if you get my drift.  Cue to the lip curl and devil horns. We were loving it. Go Music and I went to the Showbox's GREEN ROOM LOUNGE for martinis and some air. His SMOKEY MARTINI (Vodka, splash of scotch) was awesome. Back in the main room, LE TIGRE came on. Fans started jumping up and down, squealing and acting like teen-agers or cheerleaders, I couldn't decide which. I was a little put off by the band at first. They weren't playing any instruments, just singing to a track, but by the end, they'd grown on me.

Once outside, liquor munchies grabbed me. I had to have a hot dog with cream cheese and onion. I had three bucks; they cost $4. Overhearing my sad, sad predicament, the guy in line in front of me slipped me a buck. Cheering gleefully, I got an all meat dog (none of that vegan shaped tofu crap for me) and smothered it in every condiment available. 

Monday, Nov. 29

REJJIE arrived at my pad looking like he had finished off a carton of herbal jazz cigarettes by himself. After discussing the local music scene and chowing on chicken curry à la Ginger, we popped into his $100 truck (who cares that it's orange and the size of a toy) and headed for O'MALLEY'S. Rejjie parked down the street to fool the cops, wink wink.  BILLY FARMER and the rest of the Monday night BIG GREEN JAMMERS were turning out some good sounds. Billy's version of James Taylor was mellow and smooth.

Tuesday, Nov. 30

MSM DELI SAMMIES make for happy tummies. INDIE ROCKER BOY and I munched there before heading to THE GRAND CINEMA to see "Being Julia." Annette Benning did a divine job of portraying an actress in early 1900s London. The HOB NOB LOUNGE makes a fab post-movie cocktail spot. Indie and I compared Top 5's for music artists. I had Bowie; he had Cash. I had Axle Rose and Robert Smith; Indie countered with Willie Nelson and Stevie Wonder. Our combined Top 10 was astounding.  We could have drank and compared all night, except the editor of this fine rag sent BOBBLE TIKI to yell at me for not making this column's deadline.  The three of us had a great laugh over another round.

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