Cobalt Club

So being an insomniac when the paper was dropped off at my place at 5am I found an article about this place being open at 7am. And I’m a try anything once type. I wasn’t disappointed. Had a good morning.
Now its an old place, its not pretty, but if it was a lady you’d simply say she has «personality». You have to have a thick skin or not afraid of the weird and different. You can either run from the bearded lady or start a conversation as to why shes rocking a mountain man beard in a little black dress. Not that it couldnt use a real floor, the walls and the old bar really could use a refresh.
I meet a few random people when I wandered in at 7 am, a gent that just got out of jail by sneezing on a cop, some that were pulling all nighters before going into work, or they just got off of work themselves. All were truly friendly, joking, telling stories on the back patio while smoking an drinking redbull and vodka at 8am. Then again they might have been flirting more then friendly idk i can never tell. Hey you dont have to be gay to go to gay bars, it makes me feel pretty when i get hit on. I bid my farewells and thought it strange to leave a bar at 9 am. But an experience to be had.

I was pleased to see that the interior of this place is actually blue. Not cobalt blue, more like Blue Oyster blue. It’s a weird place that I’d always wanted to see the interior of. It’s a windowless building with a large heavy blue door. A large sign out front advertises the fact that they open at 7am.
I was rather disappointed with the liquor situation. Apparently the management has had problems with theft of liquor, so the bartender has to put a computer device up to the bottle to pour a drink. So if you’re looking for a heavy pour, you’re out of luck. If your drink requires just a splash of a liquor, sorry. It also makes it take forever to pour a drink. I hate those things.
However, the drinks are cheap! They are so low that you can buy a round for only a few bucks.
There’s a stage up front that looks like it was part of a strip club. It’d be great for karaōke, but they apparently don’t offer that. The clientele is eclectic.
When I got in, I saw that I was mistaken about the place being windowless. There’s a weird small window less than a square foot big, about waist high by the pool table. I asked the bartender about this, and it’s due to the fact that there’s a state law that says that places with a pool table must have a window nearby so the vice squad can peep in and see if there’s any gambling going on.
The parking lot is all messed up, and it’s rather run down. It’s a dive bar, so you can’t get upset.
They sometimes serve food on Sunday mornings, I’ve heard.

Seriously I like all kinds of music, but it seemed like the patrons had a problem with the Fleetwood Mac music I was playing. If you have a problem with the music I am playing, put your money in the jukebox.

Depends on what you’re looking for. It’s a dive, always a dive, but sometimes one of the most fun places you can be. They have a Touchtunes jukebox, a few TVs. Lower your standards to below low and you’ll have a blast. I love this place. Nothing fancy at all, but it’s fun and the drinks are good. They open at 7am and close at 2am. Come here and have a blast.

My husband and I have driven by this dive bar for the past 4 years and always wondered what kind of place it was to be open at 7 a.m. I have seen all types of gentlemen leaving at all hours of the day.
It’s been rumored night shift nurses/​doctors come here from the hospital down the street.
So, feeling adventurous on a cold Saturday afternoon — we rolled up and parked. The lot was scattered with all kinds of different cars including motorcycles, Volvos, Hondas, etc. (Basically not junk cars… middle class nice). My husband whispered he was a little scared as we walked up the steps to a big heavy blue door with a metal handle.
I went in first and immediately saw it was dark, very dark and I seemed to be the only female as I scanned the room quickly. We stepped down into the sunken room and went to the end of the bar where there were two seats together. I heard a female at the end of bar stating she could, «Get any man naked in here she wanted.» Okay, at least I wasn’t the only girl.
It looks like an old strip club on the inside with the bar coming to a point where the «stage» was with mirrored walls. We were sitting where many a man or woman probably gyrated till all hours of the morning. I was careful not to touch the bar too much.
The bartender was friendly and no one seemed to really care we were there. Everyone just went on talking and drinking. We ordered a draft beer ($ 2) and shared a Makers with water ($ 4). Not bad prices!
There was a man across form the bar that looked like he was passed out but then would pick his head up to drink only to put it back down again. I think the only other female put music on the jukebox and we listened to Journey sing «don’t stop believing» and felt as though somehow Journey was singing the battle song of the sunken bar. Other classic rock played while people took turns shooting pool and drinking alcohol.
At some point a new bartender took over and ended up removing his shirt and walking around shirtless. I’m still not sure why. Then, it happened… a German cockroach crawled out from behind the bar and cruised straight toward us. Now, I’m not a sissy girl that is afraid of bugs, but I have watched enough Bar Rescue to know roaches love liquor and where German roaches are there is usually an infestation. But, this really didn’t shock me. We were thankfully about done with our adventure for the day. We closed out and stepped up stairs from the sucken bar to the door and out into the world.
I now know what goes on behind the cement of that windowless building at McCullough and Ashby. If only the walls could talk. We may venture back but it probably won’t be anytime soon. Overall, it wasn’t as scary as we thought — it just felt like we walked into a snap shop scene of a David Lynch film on a Saturday afternoon.

Rift-​raft Bar Rat (Aladdin tune)
Leaving another reputable bar to experiment with how the other half enjoys their spare time.
I find myself pulling in to this make shift parking lot. Gravel? Downtown? Come on. So I step out of my car into the gravel. As I cross the parking lot, kicking away the used needles & torn condoms (Not to mention stepping over the broken dreams and shame of so many before), I walk in thru this heavy door into a dark red, sunken room.
I sit on the closest seat and am created by a «wigga.» Who is in a brief boxer underware and sneakers. He’s clearly been drinking, if not more. We order a drink. Mine was a gin and tonic. Usually I have a lime in it but I figure the less this guys hands are in my drink– the better I’ll be. The crowd isn’t the normal but over all it’s a great place to have a drink with enthusiastic people. And then drink was well mixed.
Cheers

Is there a 2.5? hahaha This joint can be summed up in one word. «Sketchy» Have fun and bring the Lysol, also make sure your tetanus shot is up to date. Do NOT under any circumstance touch the floor or anything that has touched the floor. Again. «Sketchy» You will leave with feelings of shame and regret, but you may have a good time with those feelings. It’s up to you =)

A guy and a girl walk into a bar…
Ah yes. The makings of a terrible joke. No joke here my funky friends. True story:
So this racially diverse couple walks into this bar (and I say «bar» with no offense to other bars).
Alas, we walk in and the first thought that pops into my head is, «What The F*ccccck (and THIS WTF is a slow motion WTF– all other previous WTFs are rendered lesser after this WTF). If the outside of this establishment looks shady, the interior takes this motif and kicks it up notches unknow to mankind.
Let me explain. It looks like this place had been a strip joint in its previous life. Hell, some of its late 70’s décor, bar chairs and carpet are still present and accounted for.
Not knocking the place. Just different. For different people. Yes. The people: there were about 5 patrons when we arrived, all different, both in ethnicity, musical taste (Beyonce, the Ohio Players and Miley Cyrus were blasting from the juke box) and stages of sobriety. One white patron was passed out sitting up on his chair on what I can only assume was an old DJ both. When this cat woke up, he was escorted to the other side of the bar where he engaged in some conversation with what appeared to be an asian or really drunk mexican who couldnt open his eyes. These two argued about something or other then the drunk white threw a cocktail glass on the floor for God knows what. Cue glass everywhere. Yes. Free Friday night entertainment for the price of two modelos and a couple of songs on the jukebox.
I like dives. But this dive I’m not sure is for me. I dont expect 5 star service or beverages or dives to be aesthetically pleasing. This place lacked windows, the men’s bathroom was, well, half a bathroom as the wall between the sink and the toilet and pisser was half demolished and there were no paper towels and the hand drier was missing the ON button/​motor. At least they had nice cinnamon apple scented soap. My hands appreaciated that little considerate touch.
Overall, definitely an place to experience. With bodyguards in tow. It’s a place to treasure as this shithole must be the original shithole from where other shitholes were born.

Summary in six words: Cheap shithole, nice bartender, offbeat denizens.
I wrote this to someone, and I liked it so I’m repostin’.
«I watched Ashley Wagner figure skate on TV through a mirror, and got to observe two middle-​aged Mexican drunks eyeballing a scratch-​off lotto card with a magnifying glass with orderly stacks of small change between them, while a distinguished silver fox decked out in lilac tones drank a light beer impassively.
«At some point, the two older drunks packed their goods, discussed the importance of a 1910 penny, and then all three left together. My brain shut down at that sight.
«Another older gent who had doffed his suit jacket but still had his suspenders went to the jukebox and put on a psychedelic 80s synth tune I’d never heard before while a leathery woman commented loudly on anything. Everyone was enjoying each other.
«I didn’t really see the Thompson link [implying the Current is worth reading] but the personalities were certainly present to fit into one of his travelogues.»
I’ll add some more:
You instinctively crouch into whispering, out of fear of drawing attention to your boring conversation and eliciting a dull metanarrative milieu over the whole room. Nobody has anything important to share in The Cobalt Club because of this, so if you’re vapid, this is an ideal lounge.
The leathery woman is a distillation of all the haggard Denny’s waitresses you’ve ever seen, voicebox etched by burnt tobacco like the lotto cards those men scratched for misty winnings.
The patio is great. Trellised, closed in, like a zoo. Better than the chickewire cage patio at The Garage in Calallen. I love the feeling of no escape, but the only people who would corner you at Cobalt Club would be decrepit addicts-​in-​relapse, so it’d be a fair fight.
Chelsea’s review is bad. Logan’s review is good. Mine is best. Go to Cobalt Club if you come home and find your significant other in bed with someone else and it’s almost time for the work day to start. They’ll understand and won’t judge.

So when I come here its usually as a joke or as a prank. Like when I ask a visiting friend if they like a dive bar or something I will take em here. The place opens at 7 am most days and sometimes you will see Doctors and Nurses who are getting off their late shift popping in for their early morning happy hour. Most of the times its a bit riff raffy though. I took my friend who wanted to go to a dive bar here a few weeks back and a seemingly homeless man comes up, asks for a drink and gives the very very drunk bartender his debit card. The homeless man takes back his card and then begins drinking his whiskey on the rocks. A moment later the man shouts at the bartender «wheres my change, I gave you 20 dollars?!». The Bartender turns around and says; «You just had the one right?» then opens his till and gives him 16 dollars change even though the guy had paid with a debit card. A moment later two very unstable woman start fighting at the jukebox and so we left. Its a hit or miss kinda joint. I’m not saying don’t go and I am not saying go. But if you do just tell your mom you love her first.

It’s a gay bar. Can we say that on Unilocal

Alright. Cool place. Nice bar-​keeps. Small. Shitty art on the wall. Great dive if you don’t have great expectations. Check out the register: reminiscent of the days of Atari.

Went there on an off night. Was one of 3 other parties in the bar.
Rudy was our bartender. Turned our otherwise boring night into something memorable.
Rudy is the shit. Nuff said.