After the requisite champagne toast, kiss, and shouts of “Huzzah!”, my first few moments of 2011 were spent taking drink orders and maneuvering booze through the Hideout’s celebratory chaos. A fitting start, since the Hideout is bound to be the setting of much of my coming year — whether I’m behind the bar or in front of it. And it got me thinking. What, if any, resolutions might the Hideout have for its next trip round the sun? This is a big year, after all: The Hideout turns 15. What should this older, more mature (hah!) institution resolve for 2011?
To start, how about we…
* Don’t let those charming bartenders get us all quite so drunk quite so often.
* What, a shot? That’s not necess—oh, all right. Just the one, though.
* Keep all of Tim’s introductions under the 10-minute mark. Wait, wait. Let’s be reasonable. Keep all of Tim’s introductions under an hour.
* Hey, this glass seems to have filled itself up again . . . Well, all right. Just one more, though. For real.
* Add more house drinks inspired by prostheses and the like. The Hook. The Glass Eye. The Hairpiece. The Merkin. Sounds delicious, no?
* OK. We’d better go, we have to get up in the—Oh, all right. Just one last shot, though, seriously. Then we’re done. Woooh! That whiskey is strong.
* Get in better shape. What’s the old H/O gonna do if the Zombie Apocalypse hits? Break out the Makers and hope for the best? Heck no. Let’s do some sit-ups, take one of Marci’s yoga classes, and be the most in-shape bar in town. Hey, what do you call the Hideout when it’s working out? A chin-up bar! Get it? [Ed.: This joke does not accurately represent the Hideout’s sophisticated sense of humor.]
* So then he says, “Oh yeah!? Well why don’t YOU just—” Another? OK, we give . . . that is all, though. Seriously, Nat. It’s 2011. We’ve got resolutions to keep.