For far too long now, Seattleites have slouched damply on our barstools made of repurposed wood, peering listlessly into our beers and our dainty craft cocktails and our bordeaux-style blends.
Can you see us? We are not wearing goofy smiles. We are not glugging Diki Dikis and Mai Tais and Zombies and Major Baileys. We are not dressed in ridiculous button-down shirts decorated with lurid orchids or coconuts or hula dancers balanced on surfboards.
We have no tiki.
As Andrew Bohrer recently pointed out in this article, Portland has tiki. San Francisco has tiki. New York City has tiki. Where is our tiki? Who will bring us the tiki?
News came this morning that Poco Wine Room is up for sale. And you know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking TIKI. I can easily see the two-tiered, intimate Poco converted into an island paradise. A little thatch, some paper umbrellas, maybe a parrot perched on a shoulder or two and we’re there.
Come on, some talented Seattle bartender who also has business sense, open a tiki bar!