| rev:text
| - (aka. SKETCHY TEMPE with BONNIE G, Part One of Three)
I was in Tempe. I was having coffee. I was sedate. I wanted to see if anyone wanted join me and discuss Kafka or something boring. And so I called up the town's most famous resident to see what was goin' down.
"Um, YOU need to see sketchy Tempe. It is time. And I will be the one who will show it to you. Meet me at Time Out Lounge. No, wait. Meet me at Monkey Pants. Yes, Monkey Pants!"
And so I did.
Monkey Pants! Sorry folks, but this name is nonsensically awesome. I walked in and sat myself at the round bar, joining a smattering of other patrons sitting there by themselves, each staring into nowhere in particular. Well drinks for $2.50, served in a standard kitchen glass. Nice! I proceeded to watch the football game and was soon joined by my Tempe tour guide.
We were approached by the bartender to do discounted Patron shots....but only if we wore sombreros. There was barely anyone here on a Sunday night, and I'm of the kind who doesn't care anyway, and the thought of me and Bonnie G sitting at a desolate stripmall bar with sombreros on is kind of ridiculous and great at the same time, but shots were not on my agenda for the night. Alas.
I then got a royal tour of the place, including the great leg lamp (actually it's two legs, not just one!), shuffleboard, pool tables, couches with a cozy fire being played on endless loop on a big screen TV, ample board games and another section with tables and chairs, which is where we sat, under the painting of the teddy bear in Richard Simmons gear.
Other patrons were seated all over the large space, so everyone had their own private area in a way. I actually really dug this. I'm not one who needs a place to be crowded to enjoy myself or feel like "it's happening." Sitting around a fake fire with pints and board games with a few friends is more my speed these days anyway. So I may sound decrepit, but I'm really not that old. I swear.
Sure, Monkey Pants has frat-party gimmicks throughout the day, but this place has no pretense whatsoever. How can you even take it seriously? Even it doesn't take itself seriously.
I mean, it's just sitting there. In a strip mall. In Tempe. With a painting of a teddy bear wearing Richard Simmons workout gear on the wall and a stack of sombreros sitting next to a popcorn machine. Waiting for you to leave your critical mind behind and enjoy the now.
And enjoy the now we did.
All thanks to my Sketchy Tempe tour guide.
4 stars.
(end of Part One)
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