Silver Lion Buffet

I never was a regular here, but I’ve had some good times at the Silver Lion. One night after a matinée show at Bottom of the Hill, I ended up here with a squad of drunken friends. After consuming five or six big Buds we were treated to dollar lap dances by a hard living and habitual drug using middle age lady. Not sure if I actually partook in the the dancing for dollars, but i sure did witness some hip shaking, ass grinding action.
Another time, a friend of mine became so entranced by a young lady’s exposed thong as she leaned on the bar, that he reached out and unconciously ran his index finger along the exposed undergarment. Clearly this is unacceptable behaviour, which became clear to him when the woman’s angry & mustachioed lady friend shoved him in the chest. Ever the peace maker, I stepped in and asked what my friend could do to make up for his error. After some debate, it was concluded that he would have to, as a show of supplication, lay his exposed penis in the hand of the angry lesbian. This he did, and after giving it a testing squeeze, she declared it, «average white guy dick».
In any case, the silver lion will be missed greatly. Unless that tapas bar that replaced it has big Buds and the loudest metal juke in the east bay.

Nite club, is this the in place to be, Nite club, what am I doing here
Nite club, watching the girls go by, Spending money on…
I won’t dance in a club like this
’Cause all the girls are sluts
And the beer tastes just like piss
~nite club by the specials (
)
It is closed! boo hoo… head to The Avenue
And a sweeter piss you’ll never taste. The bar wenches are taking no-​shit cool and having more fun than working. There is a tendency for guys to outnumber the chicks. Meg and I counted 28 guys to 6 ‘sluts’ but a mere 15 mins later the girls were only down by 3. People filter in and out all night long. I showed up once at midnight with 3 people there and by half past there were 20 odd people having a good time.
It only takes a fiver to monopolize the jukebox as the financially challenged clientele are to busy scraping for cig, tat, and reefer coin. It’s not a bad idea too if you want to keep the megadeath (half the crowd) fans from utilizing the box.
What kind of jukebox you ask? Well if internet jukeboxes hadn’t been invented this may be the best jukebox in the bay area. While not up to Gusoline Alley (
). in Royal Oak, Mi it does earn honors They could trash some of the speed metal but I fear it may be used when I’m not present. The time might come when they have to think about putting in a Internet Jukebox thou. Put Nite Club or the Pogues on and be prepared to see a bar wenches come alive.
Whiskey, Beer, Clean glasses and fun alternative friendly atmosphere. Girls in dreads, straight guys in leather and piercings abound.

Hmm… so I moved to the East Bay, sounded like a good idea and all until I realized that I was giving up any chance of ever getting to walk to a fun bar.
This is the closest to my house, and still a 20 block trek through a neighborhood that I wouldnt walk through after dark. That being said, it was fittingly dive-​y (and not a new bar trying to be a dive like in the mission.) good 70s punk and metal playing, stiff drink, old school video games and patrons seemed to be general displeased with our showing up and were not friendly (think angry early 20s biker types).
Oh — one more thing… buffet — where?

Girls go here to get into trouble.
I go here to watch Joe Elliot pour some sugar on me and my boyfriend.
I’ve seen a Simon Lebon look alike there, and the bartender offered to give me my whiskey for free if I didn’t like it mixed with 7up…
It’s wife beaters, smoke breaks and sticky chairs.
It’s Budlight, dive bar conversation and street walkers.
It’s all about hifalutin hookers, tight pants and the jukebox.
Yeah, girls get in trouble here.
But they’re never alone.

I feared for my life upon entering this bar.
Ok. Maybe that’s a tad bit dramatic, but I immediately got the feeling that this was a regulars type place. The regulars being local prostitutes, homeless guys and men who for some reason or another are carrying chains and quite possibly packing concealed weapons.
Can I say «packing concealed weapons» or does that sound too naïve? Should it just be «packing» then?
Ok. fine. The folks sitting at this bar were definitely «packing».
There were other regulars for them to harass though, so we slid up to the bar and ordered a beer and a jack and coke. I never know what to do with whiskey, it always sounds like a good idea when I’ve had a bad day, but then I choose some boring drink like that. I need some whiskey suggestions.
Tangent.
Anyway. Strong, strong, STRONG drinks, so that’s something they’ve got going for them. The Jukebox seemed decent, some Bowie, TRex and Johnny Cash, but where can you NOT here Johnny Cash nowadays? This place is also amazingly dirty. So if you want to get smashingly dirty type drunk, this might be the place for you. But make sure you bring a chaperone. This is not the kind of place you want to pass out and be completely defenseless in.
Also: I liked the bartender. She was nice.

It’s trouble. It’s dirty. It’s full of dirty troubled people. And it’s very comforting to me. The bartenders are great and the big giant Buttweisers make me ill, but I still love it. Big shots of tequila… oops I knocked over the nut machine again… My dog gets to sit at the bar. It’s close to my house and a reliable place to make a new friend who you won’t remember the next time you wander in or who you’ll pretend to have forgotten because you told them waaaayyyyy too much.
Now that I live in Oakland, it’s my Zeitgeist. It’s home.