Description
A sleazy dude in a black leather jacket leers at me. "Have you ever pet a rabbit between its ears?" he asks. "No," I say cautiously. Wrong answer. "Do you want to?" he says, spreading his legs and thrusting his pelvis toward me. I'm more baffled than annoyed. Is this specimen native to Kirkland? Where are the Googlers in their pressed chinos? Turns out they're unacquainted with the sports bar that sits between Cigarland and Kentucky Fried Chicken. The Liquid Lime is for cheap-asses, lushes, and gluttons. It's an essential venue for Totem Lake, a neighborhood that, despite being annexed in the early '70s, still boasts more independent auto-repair shops than cafes. When two mechanics wearing their grease-spattered uniforms walk in, they're barely given a second glance. The affable bartender divides his time between playing pool with the patrons and egging them to drink more. The latter's an easy trap to fall into, given that the Lime offers $5 pitchers, and innovative reasons to down them, almost nightly. Wednesday it's karaoke. Thursday it's all-you-can-eat ribs. And Monday boasts the wildly popular Wii bowling tournament. Tonight, Sleazy Dude takes the stage and infects the room with his rendition of Edwin McCain's "I'll Be." Nobody claps, but nobody complains either. If he's the tax on cheap beer and refuge from yuppiedom, so be it. The Lime may be just one freeway exit north of downtown Kirkland, but that one exit makes a hell of a difference. ERIKA HOBART
