Earlier this summer, I heard about a new bar/club called the Shark Bar that was going to open at the Kansas City Power & Light District. Naturally, any place with "shark" in the name piques our interest here at The Sandbar.
One night in July, the manager (I think) of the soon-to-be opening Shark Bar visited The Sandbar. He left plastic cups with the bar's logo along with some of his business cards, and on the back of the cards he graciously gifted us with no waiting in line/no cover. Dave said this guy had started coming to The Sandbar quite a bit, which only added to our curiosity about the Shark Bar.
Well, the place opened on 8/8/08. We haven't been there yet, but the Kansas City Star's publication, Ink, provided a peek inside.
A few things seem to be Sandbar-ish, like the bikini-top-clad servers (apparently, a long time ago, the female bartenders at The Sandbar used to wear bikinis and dance on the bar) and the drinks. Other than that, though, it's definitely a lot more "club" than "dive."
We're anxious to check it out, though, to see how palm trees and beach themed decor mix with black lights and dance floors.
Our good friends Rheva and Dave recently spent 19 days on a bus in Europe. Okay, maybe they weren't on a bus the entire time, but according to them it sure seemed like it.
Like good Sandbar patrons, they packed Sandbar shirts to wear on the trip. A funny anecdote about this- one of the other bus-trippers tried really hard to remember everyone's name, and as she wrote names of her fellow travelers in a notebook, she also wrote down something memorable about each person. Beside Rheva and Dave's names she wrote "Sandbar." I'm guessing they were the only folks on this particular tour sporting shirts from a local bar.
Anyway, once they arrived back to the much less expensive United States, Rheva and Dave sent us these photos of them at Kensington Palace and the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace.
Not even Rheva could get that guard to crack a smile. If you're planning to travel to Europe anytime soon, Dave and Rheva recommend that you take lots of money. You'll need it.
Phil sent us a link to a new bar that opened last weekend in Chicago, which sounds suspiciously like a bar we would all love.
Uncle Fatty's Rum Resort (don't you just love the name?) is a tiki-themed paradise that is equipped with a sandbox, surfboards, bamboo, and palm trees. They don't serve food, but they have beer and specialty drinks, some of which are garnished with toys.
Their opening "Tres de Mayo" party last weekend had drink specials and a flip cup tournament- two things near and dear to our hearts.
Oddly, Fatty's seems to be only a temporary venture open through the summer.
Perhaps we need to plan a research trip to Chicago...
I mentioned before our recent trip to San Antonio that we had searched the internet to see if there were any Sandbars located there, and as it turned out, there was one.
On Monday, armed with a map of the area, we set off on the miles-long walk from our Motel 6 towards the RiverWalk. As we approached Pecan Street, where the Sandbar Fish House and Market was supposedly located, we saw a lot of blue shirts and heard music and cheers.
We got closer and realized that we were headed straight towards a Memphis Tigers pep rally in the middle of the block where we thought the Sandbar was located. Dave wanted to walk right through the rally; I was not so brave and refused. We ended up walking around the block to avoid the Tiger fans, and found the Sandbar on the opposite corner away from the pep rally.
The restaurant wasn't open so we couldn't check out the inside, but they have a cool logo.
Or so they say.
We are conducting very important research today in San Antonio while
we recover from last night's exciting game and anxiously await
tomorrow's National Championship game.
Right now we are sitting in Joe's Crab Shack waiting on our food. We
chose this place because we recently heard a rumor that the one in
Kansas City had started serving a shark attack drink just like ours.
Sure enough- it's not on the menu, but Dave asked about it and our
server said they just started doing it a few weeks ago.
It arrived in a schooner glass complete with the same shark we use,
with grenadine in a little plastic tube in the sharks mouth.
See for yourself.
Well, actually, Dave and I are traveling south tomorrow for the Final Four and to watch the Jayhawks take on North Carolina.
However, we learned a long time ago that whenever we travel somewhere, we should first check to see if there are Sandbars wherever we plan to go.
We fly to Austin tomorrow and we're anxious to check out the bar scene there. I googled "Sandbar" in Austin and found one that might be a possibility- a map came up with a location near 8th and Colorado, but without a specific street address. It was also the only reference I could find on the internet to this place, so it may not exist any longer. We'll definitely find out.
I had better luck with San Antonio. A search quickly located the Sandbar Fish House and Market, which doesn't seem to have it's own website but I did find a few reviews of the place. The best part is that it appears to be located four minutes from our hotel. Definitely a photo-op and possibly a meal there.
In our internet search for entertainment in Austin, we did find a couple places that looked promising for fun times (and potential drink and decor ideas), even if they aren't named Sandbar.
More on our travels later. Meanwhile, if you're stuck in Lawrence for the big game and you don't want to get in line at a sports bar at dawn the day before, consider The Sandbar. We have brand new big screen TV's and the best bartenders in town.
Sandbar friend and blog commenter Pat and his dog Marley recently took a trip to Key West. He sent us a couple of pictures of them both sporting classic Sandbar tee's while hanging out on the beach. He also text-messaged all of us back here in Kansas- it was snowing that day- to tell us that he was hanging out at Schooner Wharf bar and we could watch him on the webcam.
Remember these shirts? I finally had to retire them from Dave's closet before they fell apart.
We'll add these pictures to our wall of Sandbar tees around the world. If you have any of your own to share, send them to us and you could be famous too.
Here's a picture for the bulletin board at The Sandbar- Sandbar shirts at Dolphin Stadium for the Orange Bowl! Don't let the t-shirts fool you- it was cold that night. The boys only had their jackets and sweatshirts off for this photo.
Don't forget to take your Sandbar shirt with you next time you travel, you could be featured on our wall too.
Well, the Sandbar was well represented at the Orange Bowl, with Dave
and I chaperoning doorboy Andrew and his roommate Matt. Bartender
Tegan was there along with former staffer Erick and many of our
regulars. A great time was had by all, especially since KU won!!
Not so great, however, is that the four of us missed our connecting
flight home to KC, thanks to the hour long delay in Miami (which was
also the length of our layover in Denver), a most unhelpful American
Airlines staff (and one particularly snotty flight attendant), and an
inter-terminal tram that chose just the right moment to malfunction.
Dave was lucky enough to be the first one off the plane so he sprinted
for the block of Frontier gates, because oh yes, we also had to change
airlines and re-check in at the gate. Of course there are 50 some
Frontier gates and we didn't know which one to go to (see the
previously mentioned unhelpful people).
We didn't make it. There were at least 20 other folks on our flight
who were connecting to KC, and we ran like crazy people, only to find
the plane pulling away from the gate.
Of course it was the last flight to KC. Frontier rebooked us on the
6:30 am tomorrow. And what did American do for us? Not much. They
offered a hotel, but we didn't want to hassle with it. They also gave
us meal vouchers for a generous $10 each. And we all know how airport
food prices are.
So I sit here, in the Denver airport at gate A30, painstakingly
tapping this out on my iPhone, because I have nothing else to do but
try to sleep on either a filthy hard floor, or contorted into an
equally uncomfortable chair.