1121 Polk ~ (415) 567-1918

8:00pm Wednesday 25 April 2007

Prologue:  I don’t have a lot of preconceived notions about Blur.  It’s a good name for a Bar, and they seem to have dj’s who play the sort of music I like.  So I figure it will either be a pretty cool place, or totally lame and pretentious (I suspect it may be gratuitously Asian-themed, but I won’t know ’til I walk in the door).  Let’s go see which it is, shall we?

Tonight’s conversational topic will be: ziploc bags.  Specifically, I am very interested to know why the Transportation So-Called Security Administration considers ziploc bags to have anti-terrorist properties.  If anyone can explain to me how a lip gloss’s threat level is neturalized by being placed inside a ziploc bag, I will buy that person a drink.  And I do mean it.  Because really, if ziploc bags do have magical explosive deterrent powers, then why don’t we just put a couple of giant ones around oh, say Iraq and Afghanistan, and be done with all this insurgency already? 

Afterword:  The first thing about Blur is that it is not, as one might think, named after the state of one’s short-term memory the morning after spending quality time there.  It is, rather, apparently named after a band. The owner is some sort of music fan, and that’s a good thing, because the place plays a funky and eclectic mix of music. Sometimes it is a little loud, but they’ll turn it down if you ask, so no problem.

The second thing about Blur is that they have 2-for-1 Happy Hours every single day of the week between 4 and 6pm, so that is when you should go there.  Otherwise, cocktails are $7.00 (but at least the martinis are big).

The third thing about Blur is that I went there in between food menus, so I can’t tell you anything about what they will have to eat.  They used to have a sushi chef, but he just left and they were in the process of working out a new food situation when I was there.  So, by the time you go, there will probably be something on which to nosh.  But the impending food service probably does mean No Dogs Allowed.  I forgot to ask, but Blur didn’t seem like a dog place to me.

It did seem like a pretty good place to have drinks, though.  Plenty of places to sit, plush stools, groovy tunes, and no shot glasses for sale, but they do have baseball hats that say “blur” on the front and have a martini glass and “San Francisco” on the back, so of course I had to have one ($20.00, and they are non-adjustable and run big, but Paladin is going to fix mine for me, being the handy sort of chap that he is).  They also have a friendly bartender there who is somewhat inexplicably named Bernie (I say inexplicable because she is a female, and all the other Bernie’s I know — ok, the one other Bernie I know — is a male person actually named Bernard, which I actually insist on calling him, to his eternal consternation).  Bernie thought Bars By The Book was a cool idea, so of course I decided she was cool, and then I concluded she was really cool after she stood us a round of drinks (thanks, Bernie!). 

So we watched the Warriors lose their basketball match to Dallas (no big surprise, but still).  And we chatted about Bars and bars and Cocktail Lounges (including that “secret” bar downtown where you are supposed to have a reservation, and where Wanda is supposed to be going with me — hello, Wanda?), too, which, surprisingly, never does get old.  We idly wondered why all the other Barflies were missing out on our nice, mellow time.  But as we weren’t getting any closer to resolving the ziploc bag question, I headed off for the obligatory bathroom inspection.  That’s when a shift change occurred.  Paladin apparently said something to the new bartender about the ghastly current national pre-occupation with rehab, and the bartender said he had, in fact, just been about to play the smashingly fabulous Amy Winehouse CD which starts with the hit (not to mention Theme Song of this ridiculous blog) single, “Rehab”.  Paladin, quick thinker that he is, asked the bartender to wait until I came back to press play, and you can just imagine my delight as I returned to the bar to the strains of my new favorite song! Paladin and I serenaded the Bar and then, really — since how were we going to top that? — we decided to call it a night.

Blur is a fine spot for a drink; not at all caught up in trying too hard to be the dreaded “hip & trendy”.  It’s totally chill and currently has some tastefully done photographs of nude figures on the wall opposite the bar (the art may or may not be subject to change).  I liked it there, and I’d go back anytime, just as long as it is between 4 and 6pm.  After all, I’m fixin’ to go back to graduate school, and a schoolgirl needs to save her $$ for tuition.

Bathroom Biography
Two, one for each “His” and “Hers”. “Hers” opens into a large-ish space with one stall off to the right. The stall space is a little dark, but the rest of the room is well-lit enough for you to check your lipstick and adjust your new baseball hat to a more fetching angle. Bottom line: go for it, and so much the better if they start playing your favorite song when you get back!

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