Woof's is both a gay bar and a sports bar - and a gal reporter feels right at home
I've seen a lot of weird things hapr pen at bars late at night, but watching six leather-clad men bound together with Saran Wrap try to catch gay porn with their teeth was a first for me.
Such was the scene I encountered at Woof's at the recent Beg For It party hosted by SPIT NYC. Woof's is the new kid on the King Street block (replacing the King Club) that touts itself as a gay-friendly sports bar. Owned by Dino Maniaci and Jason Hoke, the place has drawn quite a crowd in its first month open. So as a veteran New York clubgoer, I was curious to see what a Woof's weekend would look like, and frankly a little nervous. I'm always up for a party, but these days I tend to shy away from the partial nudity and dance-floor dry-humping that many clubs - gay or straight - tend to provoke.
Though flat-panel televisions line the industrial walls where plenty of basketball fans caught March madness, calling Woof's a sports bar is like calling Playboy a literary magazine. The giant photographs of nearly naked men are enough to prevent you, for example, from taking Grandpa along to catch a Brewers game. As my hairdresser Stan put it, 'If gay could talk, it would have a megaphone, and it would be shouting. Loudly. That's how gay it is.'
Yet Hoke and all of the employees I talked to are quick to assert that it's an inclusive place. I think that's fair. My friend Caitlyn and I, dressed to kill, were certainly doted upon at this see-and-be-seen spectacle. Ironically it was my new friend Danny, dressed in a T-shirt and baseball cap, and his partner of eight years who felt the most left out on Saturday night. 'We thought it was going to be a gay version of Pooley's,' he told me, referring to the east-side sports bar. 'A place for regular guys to hang out. We don't like all the leather.'
I could see the poor guy's point. But when in Rome, do as the Romans do, and that's exactly what Caitlyn and I did. With help firom a wonderful invention called the vodka martini, we dove right into the leather, bondage, industrial-techno male homosexual scene that, as satin, manicured, indiepop-loving female heterosexuals, wasn't our natural habitat. But we adapted quickly Bartender wearing only a leather jockstrap on the bottom? Child's play Man in a giant bear suit for some 'plushie' fetish? Who cares? Host Paul Short asking us to dance on barrels? Why not? Everyone was as friendly as could be, and no one was trying to get us into bed. It was refreshing, although part of me missed the attention.
Now, I know that regardless of sexual orientation, this might sound a little overwhelming. Not to worry. I stopped into Woof's a couple times during the week and it was a far milder crowd, with people shooting pool or watching movies and sports on TV (except for a few who tuned into Top Chef on Bravo). The gay rugby team in town holds its meetings and recruitment inside, and Indie Queer plans to host smaller events there, too.
Plus, Hoke is the sweetest guy and is at Woof's nearly every day, trying to work out the kinks and taking suggestions from patrons. He even organized a Bear-Beer-Bash to take place every Sunday night with $2 Miller Lite and free pizza from the Glass Nickel. Cheap beer, free pizza. Does it get more gay and/or guy friendly than that?
Woof's
114 King St.
608-204-6222
A SONG WITH YOUR SLICE
Speaking of the Glass Nickel, you may be surprised to learn that the basement at the Atwood Avenue location is one of Madison's best under-the-radar places to hear live music - the Bat Cave, you might call it, to the 'Nickel Pizza mansion.
My friend Melissa and I decided to get there early for a pizza the night the Treats were playing an acoustic set. Our booth was surrounded by old people, families and a kid holding a balloon bouquet. Not exactly rock-show material. I started to think that by 'trendy music outpost' my sources actually meant 'perfect place for a honky-tonk jukebox.'
But Madison is Madison, after all, and there is nothing typical about this town. The best shows I've heard have been at coffeeshops, parks and a synagogue, for Pete's sake, so why is it odd that my new favorite venue looks just like my friend Andy's basement in high school? I'm serious - right down to the wood paneling and tchotchkes hanging on the wall. Of course, Andy didn't have the 30 bottles of liquor lined up on his back wall, and he didn't yet have the wherewithal to make me the stiff drink I craved. I had a bad case of claustrophobia that can only come from having 40 sturdy Midwesterners in a room the size of my freshman dorm.
The best part about hearing music at Glass Nickel isn't the comfortable seating (there is none), the sound quality (DIY), or even the easy-access pizza upstairs. Rather, it's the intimacy that comes with such a primitive setup. The musicians are more fun from a few feet away, and the close proximity gives ample opportunities to heckle - which, besides a halfhearted attempt at the viola, is my one true musical gift.
It turns out the balloon gang had it about right - it was a family affair at the 'Nickel, with Treats member Don Isham offering a sheet cake to brother and bandmate Andy in honor of the letter's turning 29, while their parents sang 'Happy Birthday' from the audience. Don played the drums in his stocking feet, Andy bantered in a Southern accent, and they called up an old friend from the audience to play the harmonica for a few songs.
In a way it reminded me of the parties I'd attend at Chuck E. Cheese as a kid. I felt cozy and safe, like I had always known and loved everyone in the room, even the guy who stuck his armpit in my face. The pizza and cake were just the same, but instead of treat bags there was beer. Lots and lots of beer. And the crowd was way better than my snap-braceleted friends of yore - that east-side mix of cool and quirky without the pretension of other urban twentysomethings. Mama and Daddy make sure of that.
Glass Nickel Pizza
2916 Atwood Ave.
608-245-0880
HOT MIDDLETON NIGHTS
If you're too fond of personal space to frequent the Glass Nickel, or you're too Republican for leather-filled gay bars, suburbia might be your answer. Luz de Luna/Pachuco's restaurant and nightclub opened in February in the former Tallard's Station in Middleton, touting itself as Madison's answer to the high-end Latino venues of Chicago and New York.
But wait. Don't 'Middleton' and 'nightclub' sound oxymoronic to you? Indeed, the deserted business park where Pachuco's sits seems' more apropos for driving practice or whitecollar crime. My suspicions of the place only increased when one of the six cars in the Pachuco's parking lot was a large white van. Sans windows. It was pretty creepy
I told my sister that if we found a serial killer inside, we wouldn't have to stay the whole night. The pressure was on to show her a good time; it was, after all, her first trip out after having a baby. And if we timed it right, she could even drink a beer or two before having to nurse again.
Maybe Pachuco's did have a sad-looking man with a cowboy hat monopolizing the karaoke machine and a woman reading a book at the bar and a lot (and I mean, a lot) of Formica and ketchup and mustard at every table, and blond women in skirts whose lengths were inversely proportional to their owners' age. And maybe the location is bad and the drinks are so-so and the fog machine brings up too many bad memories of performing jazz squares in community theater musicals.
The thing is, it's never where you go at night, it's who you're with that makes or breaks it. We're plucky, my sister and me, so we wrenched the microphone away from Doc Karaoke and sang Abba and James Taylor and Regina Spektor. Then we drank more pina coladas and sang (I am not kidding) Avril Lavigne and Gretchen Wilson's 'Redneck Woman.' There may have even been dance routines. As a reward we received rounds of applause from the sparse patrons and convinced the old blond girls to sing some tunes, too.
To be fair, Pablo the bartender says that Saturday nights are the best ('Crazy!' he proclaims), and those who love Latin music and dancing are surely happy to have a venue for it. So, dancing queens, if you have gas money and free time, you might as well give it a shot with your best friends. As with any of these offbeat nightlife spots, the worst that can come of it is a decent story to tell.
Luz de Luna/Pachuco's
8152 Forsythia St. in Middleton
608-831-2081
