The appeal of Lower Queen Anne is the idea of something for everyone. It doesn't matter if you're a barely legal frat brother or a 70-year-old karaoke nut, you're either going home with someone's digits, a beautiful stranger, or, at the very least, a good story. Karaoke enthusiasts flock every night to Ozzie's, where the scene unfolds before you're even inside. While bouncers check IDs, they debate whether prospective customers are drunk or high. Inside, there are random sinks and cupboards poking out of every corner. There's an elderly man named Bob in blingin' diamond earrings, who, the bartender tells us, is here every weekend to sing "New York, New York." There's also a shower—yes, a shower—in one of the upstairs bathrooms. The karaoke corner faces the street, and passers-by frequently gawk in the windows. Everything about this place screams fraternity house party. There's no line for the bar, but that's because there are five of them, spread over two stories. On the whole, the crowd is unpretentious, and virtually everyone who makes an appearance is guaranteed to be chatted up by someone. And singing anything by Journey is guaranteed to break the ice. HALLEY GRIFFIN
This place was awful. The karaoke sucked, the servers sucked, the bouncers were disrespectful. I'd recommend Hula Hula on 1st Ave. North instead. The drinks I had were mostly soda with a splash of liquor. Not worth your time. At Hula Hula they had excellent drinks at a good price.
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