If you've ever met or known someone who went to UofG and you ask them what it is they loved so much about the city, I'm willing to bet they'll tell you the downtown core. MacDonell street is essentially a bar-goers wet dream with pubs and clubs that appeal to everyone's social niche. There's the dimly lit, strangely comforting Jimmy Jazz, where everyone seems to know each other. Van Gogh's Ear, my former place of employment just across the street, serves the most delectable Chilean cuisine and was always a pit stop on the post-bar walk home. Of course there's the loathed Trappers Alley & Palace Nightclub, my former bar's competition, where mini cups of beer are a dollar and everyone tends to migrate once liquor has diminished their sense of shame.
As I returned to Hamilton, I was sad to think that no longer will the bouncers have my back and I won't be able to linger in the entranceways after-hours with friends, waiting for cabs in heels, in December. I've never been much of a drinker, but my involvement in the downtown scene as the head bartender of VGE made it feel like a second home; a sanctuary, some place I was accepted, known and loved.
When my two Guelphian best friends decided to come down for a two-day staycation, I decided to take them to Hess Village (the equivalent of MacDonell), and was a little uncertain as to whether we'd fit in and enjoy ourselves; after all, it was a Wednesday. I thought we'd feel overwhelmingly removed from our stompin' grounds, but I have to admit I was wrong.
Our first stop was Sidebar, the tiniest bar in the village. I thought my friends would be amused because of its size and the prices of their shooters, which is the only form they sell their liquor in. We were the only patrons in the place. The bartender and owner who introduced himself as Steve was accompanied by two security guards named Jay and Ken. We struck up some conversation with them, had a few shots of Steve's "Hardcore Pornstar" shots (made with raspberry bacardi instead of sourpuss ras, oh yeah) and got on the topic of music. My former roommate - being the fabulous singer and songwriter she is - inquired as to why there were guitars behind the bar. Steve's reply was nothing other than, "to play them, of course".
I proceeded to ramble on about Samantha's musical talent and Steve, sliding his freshly delivered box of pizza towards us, requested a serenade. Sam played some Mumford and Sons and all of us sat back and enjoyed the jam session; Steve had a second guitar behind the bar and joined in with additional chords. It was a truly memorable experience, as my roommate has never played or sang for an unfamiliar audience before. The unexpected kindness of Steve the bartender made us feel at home; his cordiality was reminiscent of Guelphian goodwill.
Steve decided to lock up at about 12:30am with only us in the establishment and few potential customers on the horizon. We were invited to join our two new bouncer friends as they made their way to Absinthe (on King st), gladly accepted, and danced the rest of the night away.
Although Sidebar isn't exactly a substitute for the Jimmy Jazz, it's definitely a place I will continue returning to. $3 shots and a bartender genuinely happy to serve: I dig it.
As I returned to Hamilton, I was sad to think that no longer will the bouncers have my back and I won't be able to linger in the entranceways after-hours with friends, waiting for cabs in heels, in December. I've never been much of a drinker, but my involvement in the downtown scene as the head bartender of VGE made it feel like a second home; a sanctuary, some place I was accepted, known and loved.
When my two Guelphian best friends decided to come down for a two-day staycation, I decided to take them to Hess Village (the equivalent of MacDonell), and was a little uncertain as to whether we'd fit in and enjoy ourselves; after all, it was a Wednesday. I thought we'd feel overwhelmingly removed from our stompin' grounds, but I have to admit I was wrong.
Our first stop was Sidebar, the tiniest bar in the village. I thought my friends would be amused because of its size and the prices of their shooters, which is the only form they sell their liquor in. We were the only patrons in the place. The bartender and owner who introduced himself as Steve was accompanied by two security guards named Jay and Ken. We struck up some conversation with them, had a few shots of Steve's "Hardcore Pornstar" shots (made with raspberry bacardi instead of sourpuss ras, oh yeah) and got on the topic of music. My former roommate - being the fabulous singer and songwriter she is - inquired as to why there were guitars behind the bar. Steve's reply was nothing other than, "to play them, of course".
I proceeded to ramble on about Samantha's musical talent and Steve, sliding his freshly delivered box of pizza towards us, requested a serenade. Sam played some Mumford and Sons and all of us sat back and enjoyed the jam session; Steve had a second guitar behind the bar and joined in with additional chords. It was a truly memorable experience, as my roommate has never played or sang for an unfamiliar audience before. The unexpected kindness of Steve the bartender made us feel at home; his cordiality was reminiscent of Guelphian goodwill.
Steve decided to lock up at about 12:30am with only us in the establishment and few potential customers on the horizon. We were invited to join our two new bouncer friends as they made their way to Absinthe (on King st), gladly accepted, and danced the rest of the night away.
Although Sidebar isn't exactly a substitute for the Jimmy Jazz, it's definitely a place I will continue returning to. $3 shots and a bartender genuinely happy to serve: I dig it.
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