Barbarella
Cools Down at Air Conditioned
pg.2
Saturday night, Memorial Day weekend,
landlord not answering the phone, you can imagine
my state of mind. As I paced hysterically, David
was busy with our neighbor inventing some contraption
to locate the keys under the shaft, as they were
not visible with a flashlight through the crack
in the floor. Of course. It took about half-an-hour
for MacGyver to invent one contraption that helped
him bring my keys into sight, and another to fish
them out (that $80,000 engineering degree from
Cornell was worth every penny). Relieved and VERY
ready for a drink, we headed to the new lounge.
As it was before my time, I never
got to experience the apparent magic that was
the legendary Green Circle. The guys who ran the
popular downtown club (eventually closed due to
noise complaints) went on to develop other popular
spots like the Pirates Den and G Lounge. Now Paulo
Emanuele and Gary John, best friends and successful
party-makers, have partnered up to create “Air
Conditioned,” on 30th at Adams Avenue. I
recognized the building, it used to be a hole
in the wall called “Your Place.” Not
long ago, I’d seen old drunks tumble out
of the bar from my vantage point across the street
(at Kadan, another recent addition to the uptown
bar scene).
Directly under the still-legible
stain from the recently removed letters of “Your
Place” is a blue, back-lit Plexiglas sign
over the door that reads, “Air Conditioned,”
in block letters. The markings of the lounge are
subdued without being overly hidden in a contrived
manner (like a few of the places I’ve been
to in Hollywood that require a freakin’
treasure map to find). A simple sign, like the
simple green-neon circle that marked the Green
Circle, or the simple red-neon X that marks the
Pirates Den. You get me. But why is it called
Air Conditioned? Gary told me that when they found
the “stink hole,” the only redeeming
quality was the sign above the door, advertising
central air-conditioning. They decided to take
it, retaining that one worthwhile feature as the
new name.
I could hear progressive house music
escaping through the front door, and the bouncer
waved us in with a smile. Though DJ Geo was mixing
the latest ethno-techno, a quick scan around the
interior made me feel like I should be
hearing Shirley Bassey belting out “Goldfinger.”
The space has a retro-1960s feel, with vintage
light fixtures purchased down the street on Antique
Row, and custom designed furniture and décor
by Yesca, the same group of artists and designers
that created the environment for the recent Red
Ball at Sushi Gallery (note: if you do not know
what these names mean, I suggest you consult Google).
First order of business – get a drink. Behind
the bar, shelves lined with liquor glowed with
light through orange and white panes of Plexiglas.
I ordered a Barbarella, my signature raspberry-chocolate
martini. Every bar in San Diego makes it differently
– I took a sip – AC’s version
is very tasty.
Already, my feet were aching (must
be longer than I thought since the last time I
wore these ridiculous boots), so I scouted out
a place to sit. The colorful, fuzzy barstools
looked fun, but I didn’t want to be in the
way of eager patrons ordering drinks. Against
one wall were orange vinyl slipper chairs (known
to the design world as Yesca’s own “Hot
Dates”). These looked comfy, but they were
already covered with a handful of the young, well-groomed
people that must have arrived while we were busy
fishing for keys.
Against another wall were
low, red cushions upon which two girls were busy
kissing each other; I’d hate to interrupt
the show they were giving to some avid Peeping
Toms across the dance floor. Ah, what’s
this? A pit in the corner, four steps down onto
fresh carpeting, lined with faux-fur-covered couches
topped with fur-covered throw pillows. Very loungy.
David and I sat down there for a bit, watching
the crowd above us. We didn’t have to risk
losing our spot, as a smiling cocktail waitress
would frequently visit to take orders and clear
out glasses and bottles. Nice.
Next Page
1,2,3
|
|
