Totally Doin’ It with Art and Emily: Dinner at Cowboy Slim’s

We ate dinner at Cowboy Slim’s in Uptown. Cowboy Slim’s is a cowboy-themed bar and restaurant.

Art’s Part

As Cowboy Slim’s was being built—mere blocks from where I live–over this past spring, I knew what I wanted it to be. Sadly, I also knew what it would be.

I wanted it to be a beer and whisky bar where people over 35 and people under 35 but who are exactly like me—you know, people who know how to be in a bar and not be a total douche about it*—would hang out, maybe dance to some Hank Williams, Jr., and enjoy some beers. Basically, I wanted it to be Inn Kahoots, but walking distance from the Artpartment.

However, I knew it would be something else: an excuse for orange suburban girls to put on cowboy boots (with heels) and corsets to get ogled and groped by over-beefy suburban guys who can’t enunciate. And just walking by at night it’s evident that this is the scene at this bar.

But! During the day! During the day Cowboy Slim’s is a restaurant with a patio. The inside of the restaurant is pure cowboy cheese (think Camp Snoopy)—which is certainly fun if you’re in the mood for it. But we didn’t eat inside. We ate on the patio because it was a gorgeous day.

Unfortunately, the aforementioned undesirable crowd got an early start (or really powered through from the night before) so as to be falling over (three times in the first five minutes of us being there) drunk. The falling, yelling, 5pm drunkards were mostly contained on the opposite end of the patio, so Emily and I were able to eat our meal in relative peace. But if you decide to eat on the Cowboy Slim’s patio on a Sunday afternoon, be forewarned: there will be 5pm drunkards.

I ordered the meatloaf. I’m not going to start piling up superlatives on account of this meatloaf, but it did not let me down in taste or substance. And for ten dollars (actually twelve, but we split the bill–heh heh heh–and not counting the reasonably priced pitcher of Premium which we got at the bar), not being let down is a pretty good deal to me. I will also note that the corn was particularly moist and plump (not unlike the waitresses. HEYO!).

Speaking of the waitresses, have you ever seen Battlestar Galactica? I mean the new one, with all the sex and explosions. Well, all the waitresses at Cowboy Slim’s look exactly like Number Six:


*This does not mean people who don’t get too drunk or into fist fights. This means that if someone falls over it’s because they have had 25 beers plus whiskey, not because they’re a jackass who is whoring for attention from their friends.

Emily’s Part

Our original plan was to spend the evening at the Bastille Day block party, so we set off from Art’s apartment (he’d like you to call it “The Artpartment,” but I’m unconvinced) not very enthusiastic about the whole endeavor.

Art was hungry, over-caffeinated, and sunburned, and I was a little under the weather from a night of drinking and exhausted from an overly ambitious bike ride.

By the time we got there, we desperately needed food and beverages and made a beeline for the concession area, where we noticed that:

  1. We were required to pay $1 for a wristband that would give us the privilege to buy overpriced beer.
  2. The food options weren’t looking all that tasty.

After a few minutes, we decided that Bastille Day, while it might have been a fun time, wasn’t in the cards for us, so we wandered down Lagoon for a bit before deciding to try Cowboy Slim’s.

Now, I often wonder why bars attract the people they do. In any given neighborhood, they’re all going to pretty similar. Drink prices and food won’t vary much; it’s the people that make you decide whether you want to become a regular.

And the people hanging out at Cowboy Slim’s were not cool.

It was still pretty early when we arrived, and the indoor area was basically empty. The patio, however, was full of people. Full of drunk people. Drunk douchey people.

In the thirty seconds it took to give the hostess our name, a guy (who we’d later notice was wearing a jersey with “Mr. Creepo” on the back) fell down in front of the hostess stand.

The hostess just glanced at him, then gave us a look that seemed to say, “Eh, what are you gonna do?” and kept going about her business. His friends didn’t seem fazed either.

Once we were seated, the service and food were fine, but we couldn’t carry on a conversation because of the screaming going on at the table behind us. And by screaming, I do not mean that people were talking too loud. I mean that they were all “WOOOOOO HOOOOOO! Let’s do SHOTS!”

It wasn’t even 7:00.

So all in all, though we had a nice walk on a beautiful night and a decent meal, I think my favorite part of Sunday was going back to Art’s place for a few games of cribbage.

2 Comments so far

  1. aliecat on July 15th, 2009 @ 9:14 am

    Ugh…sounds almost extactly like every bar in Uptown lately.

  2. doniree on July 19th, 2009 @ 4:30 pm

    I have heard all kinds of mixed reviews about this place, though probably more that sound exactly like this than not. I’m curious to check it out, but it’s definitely not on the top of my list.

    Also? Don’t think I’ve ever played cribbage.

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