Pony

I loved the old place, and the new one is starting to come around, after it’s debut as the «hip new gay club». A lot of people don’t remember the old Pony, and it’s good the new place is slowly weeding them out…
It’s not for everyone, it’s not the new Manray… it’s for the rest of us. And, it’s incredible!

This bar was not the over-​hyped piece-​of-​crap I had assumed it was. Music was excellent. Clientele was entirely tolerable. Air-​hockey. And tall cans of Colt .45.
I don’t know who was in charge of this place but someone with money needs to give him some to re-​open it. Now.

I know I’m writing a review of a posthumous establishment, but I’m doing so because SEATTLE NEEDS A BAR LIKE THIS. Yes, the whole vintage porn aesthetic was three years out of date, but it was a slightly seedy, unpretentious gay bar for those of us who don’t like listening to the latest techno-​remix-​house-​trance-​a-​thon and have a more alternative viewpoint on our queerness. I stopped going out largely because I don’t know where the pony boys went… did they all disperse like scaredyhorses on the prairie do when a steam train approaches? Wo ist die Pferdchen?

RIP!!! I had fun the one time I was there :(

I wanted to go on their last night but got sidetracked. I never made it here but I heard it was a blast. Now they are — CLOSED — CLOSED. Wow, they are CLOSED to the second power. I didn’t even know that was possible! Let us now observe a moment of silence.
Moment’s over. Screw condos.

so so sad.
pony I miss you. You were my favorite bar in Seattle. I miss your cheap drinks. I miss your porn covered walls. I miss the photo booth, and the cute folks who like to drink too much there. (but that’s not a problem with me)
All I want for christmas is pony. p-​p-​p-​please?
I want a drink right now to drown my sorrow in. Damn it — you’re closed! I’ll just have to pour a drink at home.

I came, I drank, I saw lots and lots of gay porn. It was quite the treat. I now see what all the hype was for. Sad to see this place die under the wretched fist of yuppie gentrification. Capitol Hill will mourn the loss for quite some time.
Mister, would you please help my Pony? It’s down and it ain’t gettin’ up.

last night i made my last trip to pony as i won’t be able to make it in before it closes this coming wednesday…
lol…
lol…
lol… it’s what i do when i visit pony
love the colt 45 in paper bags with straws… the table hockey game that is broken and «won’t be fixed so deal with it»… the centipede… the bar with the vasoline and leather air fresheners (yours for $ 3 people!!!)… the AWESOME wall décor…
pony was the best replacement for the cha cha and will be sadly missed!!!
RIP Pony

I will have to give this place 3 stars because I’m always too wasted to remember anything about it. I know it’s dark, I know it’s the old Cha Cha, I know that I dance, and sometime between getting a shot at the bar and last call I don’t remember anything else. Soooo?! I don’t know.
I went there last night?

If nothing else, Capitol hill is known for two things: gay bars and dive bars. So why not open one REALLY gay bar that is also REALLY trashy right on Pine? Works for me! Pony has everything you want in a gay bar (everything…), but also everything you want in a dive. But this ain’t your mother’s gay bar, the porno wallpaper speaks for itself. And for such a small place, they have 2 bars, so getting your hands around a cocktail is no problem here. The crowd is mixed with gays of all ages and straight hipsters mistaking it for the cha cha. The music is great, and they have air hockey, a photobooth, and a smoke machine. Get it? Got it? Good. Go to Pony.

This is the best bar I have ever been to. It is so fun! Sweaty hot dance machine. Can’t stop and won’t stop loving PONY!!! I should be there now. It is the definition of fun! Are you serious? Am I in heaven? Pony is real?! These people are genius! Best place in Seattle to dance and go nuts.

this is why I live on capitol hill… what a dope ass place.

This place is awesome. really. go!
The drinks are cheap and stiff, the location is great (aka stumbling distance back to home) walls covered in 70’s-80’s gay porn. yes, no joke. a gloryhole in each bathroom, p. s. don’t be a perv, and pretty good music. not everyone loves this place. it took the place of the old cha cha, and taking out all the booths and expanding the room. AWESOME! it for some reason seems less humid and way more roomy. great job guys. PLEASE KEEP PONY OPEN!

Pony is «all the buzz» around the hill these days. Everyone, from hipsters to suburban boys, are flocking to Pony for the «eccentric» experience promised by others.
I knew I loved Pony the second I walked in the door and saw the air hockey table. Air hockey is one of the best games in the world and the possibilities created by one being so close to easily accessible booze was almost too much for me to take. Sooo much fun!
The bartender going around and squirting Tequila into your mouth with a squirt gun was interesting as well… ;)

They have the same olé Cha Cha vibe, but nastier.
They have stiff, cheap drinks.
They have Centipede.
They have a glory hole.
They have goodgoodgood dance music.
They have a photo booth.
They have a horse-​y theme.
They have explicit vintage gay porn plastering the walls.
What more can you ask for? I mean, honestly. Heaven. I try to «gallop» (haha, horse joke) over to Pony whenever I’m spending a lurid night getting trashed out on the Hill.
God. Why aren’t I at Pony drinking RIGHT NOW???
Especially given the fact that its days are numbered…
Take advantage of this seedy paradise while you still can, y’all.

I loved this place when it was Cha Cha/Bimbo’s, and I love it now as Pony. The drinks are really stiff– I had to be carried home and awoke on my floor with the «faggot» admission stamp emblazoned across my cheek/​eyebrow. Although my friends and I came for the free air hockey, we stayed for the photo booth, mustaches, and killer music (Peaches, Le Tigre, and Ladytron in that order– I wish I could make that up).
If only Pony wasn’t getting torn down for yuppie condos.

If I believed in god I would definitely thank him for Pony. Every time I go there I have a great time, not just because I find someone I know there but also because the vibe is so great. A cool place to hang out, chill with friends. Although it definitely can have that «hipster fuck» vibe, if you look at the porn long enough or get immersed in taking pictures of yourself in the photo booth or play air hockey or or or or or then you can ignore it.
Plus, the bartenders are very nice and don’t look like douchebags. I expected to get «a look» when i asked for a soda once, but the bartender just smiled, poured the coke, and said, «honey that’ll be a dollar. if you need any refills you come back and see me»
plus, you get stamped «FAGGOT» as soon as you walk in, what more could you fucking want?!

Walk in and Human League and other «Just Can’t Get Enough New Wave Hits» are playing. $ 3 well drinks from 7 – 9, air hockey, and great service even if you aren’t in a rock band. Ok, so maybe being with two really cute guys helped there. But really the dive has been perfected in Pony, especially with cowboy cock all over the wall.

I walked past the old Cha Cha locale and saw an image of a mustang on the window. I thought to myself «Huh» and continued my journey toward downtown. I think I was heading to Macy’s. A week or two passed and I heard about a seedy new gay bar that recently opened. Eventually my mind connected the rumor to the equine silhouette. I thought to check out Pony until a friend in New York sent me a link from The Stranger with photos of the bar and its patrons which seemed to lack a shower, a really good razor to take off their ridiculous mustaches, and a plate of greens to give them body weight. Seriously, the kids in the photos were trying to emulate an era that happened before they were born. And the hankies in the pockets? Lord have mercy. Like they’d even know why a manicure is important for sporting a red hankie.
A girlfriend who prides herself as being the best of the best fag whisperers suggested we drop into Pony after having drinks at Smith. I should confess that I was plied into the bar with promise of air hockey (that was never played!) and the threat to best me at the game. Instead, we met some of her coworkers who were at Pony and rocking the air hockey table like a Scorpions concert.
Drinks are Capitol Hill stiff, and the music is exactly what a seedy gay bar deserves: devoid of house. Hallelujah! The crowd is a mixture of gays, fag hags, and lesbians. You could not ask for a better crowd of people, truly, especially in a city that seems to segregate its dykes and fags. The walls are covered in xerographies of porn stars from the 1970s and early 1980s, and you quickly get a sense of just how the rocking horse in the back room should be used.
The bathrooms come with a little something extra, and this will mean nothing to anyone but the experienced gay man. I say no more.
We didn’t see any of the hipster fags that were prominently featured in The Stranger article, but I did meet the acquaintance of a drunk guy celebrating his 24^th birthday. Ah, youth.