Rockin' the Rim

There are basically two types of devoted drinkers: those who drink because they're chemically addicted to hooch, and those who drink often because they love the comraderie and combustibility of certain bars. I count myself in the latter category, and would be happy to dial down my nightly carousing were it not for diamonds in the rough like the Rimrock Steakhouse on Lake City Way, which seems to have rebounded nicely after having its existence threatened this past autumn by the indoor smoking ban.

Long story short, I exited the Rimrock with a big grin on my face, feeling as though someone had just injected me with a B-12 shot after telling a very funny joke in an ulterior universe where letting one's hair down after dark is placed above all other priorities. I felt this way for the following reasons: (1) Cliff the Magician made a Rainier beer can appear out of thin air before my very eyes during a 15-minute show of illusions while I waited for my T-bone steak to be served. Dressed nattily in a bow tie and toting a lone deck of cards, the silvery-haired Cliff was not merely hustling patrons for tips -- he was the scheduled lounge entertainment from 7-8, and, according to one regular, has evidently been playing the Rimrock's lounge for several years. (2) The band Cliff was opening for, The Davanos, has a drummer, Fred, who looks like Mick Fleetwood and Frank Zappa's long lost lovechild, and performed a jammed-out, 15-minute version of Don Henley's "Boys of Summer," among other classic rock hits. Whether or not you've ever really wanted to hear a 15-minute version of Don Henley's "Boys of Summer" is beside the point -- this trio's willingness to infuse a tired genre (that genre being cover bands) with such energy and innovation was enough to have the dance floor packed with middle-aged women by 9 p.m.. (3) There's a bell above the bar. Whenever anyone rings it, every patron in the house gets a free round of whatever he or she is drinking. The person who rings the bell has to pay for the round, which last night was reportedly running $500 per round. That bell rang four times in the three hours I was there. The pull-tabs must have been hotter than Georgia asphalt to merit such generosity.

Long live the Rimrock. And my liver.