Nights on the Circuit: Raising the Open Bar

Warning—Extreme Happy Hour is not for amateurs

Xania Woodman

Monday, January 8, 8 p.m. Fashionably or otherwise, I'm late rolling up to Kona Grill in Boca Park but find it's a very happy hour indeed. Or rather, happy hours, as SpyOnVegas.com's Open Bar stretches from 6 to 9 p.m. Good thing, too, because as my night will likely not wrap up until after 2 a.m., starting at 6 p.m. could prove problematic.

I won't be enjoying any Absolut vodka, though. One cocktail at a time, the eager attendees have already drained that featured liquor du jour provided by Southern Wine & Spirits. Already I see this is an atypical after-work cocktail klatch. "It's really hard to network when you're in a really loud nightclub, surrounded by tourists," says David Burns, Open Bar's coordinator and fearless leader. Since Open Bar launched in November, there have already been reports of romances sparked, houses sold and jobs filled.

All this week and next, L5 Lofts—the low-rise luxury condo development—will sponsor the aggressively mobile gathering as it swaps locations Monday through Friday. The influential young professionals now bellying up to both sides of Kona's bar are L5's prime targets, hence the condo reps, armed with little pamphlets in case one happy hour-er should decide he wants his vodka rocks with a condo back.

Tuesday, the Rio's iBar is mellow, with a pleasant smattering of suited bodies soaking up the Level vodka, washing the taste of office from their mouths or whetting their whistles with tall drinks before heading out to dinner or clubs. "The serendipity is thick right now," toasts Burns. For the second night in a row, Open Bar gives way to dinner, which yields more cocktails, which results in a few nightclub visits. Despite the free drinks, this is going to be a long, expensive week.

But by Wednesday night at Steiner's, near the Southpoint Casino, I'm not too upset to have discovered that Open Bar is a gateway event—the jumping off point for a lot of dining out and unexpected mischief. By my calculations I should be five pounds heavier and broke by Friday, but dammit, it'll have been fun.

Even in the "Nevada-style" pub's relaxed environment, deals are being made, the business cards flying almost as fast as the gratis Fat Tire draughts. Since the event's excitement really springs from the people who attend it—not because of any overt measures by a liquor company or the nightclub photo site SpyOnVegas itself—the promotion is essentially on cruise control. Jovial Burns welcomes everyone in his unique style of address, dropping F-bombs like breadcrumbs on the mic; clearly he is enjoying happy hour as much as the rest of us.

Team Hangover (as I have so named the Weekly's nightlife crew) is holding our first official meeting to discuss important business, like how we started writing, why Jack Colton and I seem to lose our shoes when we drink and what turns up in Justin Jimenez' pockets after clubbing. The free drinks lend spirit to the summit as we celebrate "Hump Day" with the other midweek partiers.

It matters little that I showed up at 8 p.m. Thursday, this time at Lure; more than 24 bottles of Patron disappeared in just the first hour. I autopilot into a glass of champagne and fawn all over the sounds of DJ Eighty-Eight (aka Bree Delano), making her first gig in Vegas and spinning stuff from my beloved lunchbox-carrying days. It feels so good to know that my friends love the BeeGees as much as I do!

By Friday, the fifth and final day of my newly adopted hobby-sport of Extreme Happy Houring, I am a little uneasy on my heels. At Stir at the Platinum Hotel, my liver is plotting a coup d'etat in retaliation for the five-night assault, but I gotta tip my hat and yet another glass (this time of Ciroc vodka) to a promotion well done. I vow to take future post-Open Bar dining in moderation.

This time, when everyone piles into cars and taxis, moving ahead with ambitious plans for dinner and clubbing, I skulk behind a pillar and dive into my car. I can already see the many happy hours I will spend on a treadmill this weekend, gearing up for a triumphant return next week. As the Open Bar website touts, "Weekends are for amateurs."




Xania Woodman thinks globally and parties locally. And frequently. E-mail her at
[email protected] and visit
www.TheCircuitLV.com to sign up for Xania's free weekly newsletter.

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