Man, this bar reminds me of an old boyfriend that you see on the street eight years after the breakup, only to find he now has a receding hairline, a beer gut and that laugh you once thought was cute and sophisticated is far more akin to a horse guffaw. Especially when he is surrounded by much hotter guys who have more locks, more personality and less bullshit.
I hadn't been here in literally about 8 years till my friend came in town this weekend and asked if we could go meet up with some of her friends there for one drink. That's about one drink too many, in my book.
Let me back up.
About 7-8 years ago, this area of W. 6th was just starting to be built up. There was no Candyland-sized Whole Foods, no cool bars besides Momo's and no restaurants worth coming over here for besides Hut's. Star Bar was a rare find - a swanky-ish lounge that had faboo martinis, a good clientele and easy-on-the-eye decor and men perfect for a girls' night out. My friends and I used to refer to it as "Stahhh Bahhh," because we felt fancy saying it and we felt fancy being there.
Now, times have changed, and W. 6th has become one of my favorite areas in Austin - from the swanky hotel-type bar at Bess to the laid back patios at Opal's, Little Woodrow's, Key Bar and Tiniest Bar in TX, you really gotta step up your game to compete with these hot new contenders. You gotta trade for Kevin Garnett and go all out in some multiplayer deal if you want to compete on this side of 6th.
Fast forward again.
So, we walk into Star Bar and they might as well have been piping the Debbie Downer (wahh wahhhhh) theme music from the moment we hit the bar. It was 9pm on a Saturday night - plenty of other places were hopping already - and including my friend and I, I could count the number of patrons on one hand. Two of them were these road-hard old cougars at the far end of the bar talking loudly about some "asshole guy that keeps fuckin' me over!!!" Classy. There were a couple of creepy old dudes at the bar sipping the hard stuff and eyeing us as if we were jailbait (we're not).
Then the bartender takes f-o-r-e-v-e-r to get us our drinks. I asked my friend how hard it was to uncork their dirty house Pinot and pour me a tipple? He was nice enough, but the problem is he just seemed BORED. Like, out of his mind bored, so that the physical manifestation of this mental affliction was to move in ssssslllllloooooowwww mmmmooootttioooooonnnn. We stood there for about 10 minutes waiting, and keep in mind we were the only ones in the joint asking for a drink at the time.
Then we went out on the patio. I was starting to feel the ennui set in. It was like someone had popped the happy balloon, like the place you take someone to break up with them, or the place you take someone to fire them. It's like a black hole of suck.
The topper was the convo I heard going on behind me, with what looked like a cute couple on a first date. She was talking about being from the Dallas area, and seeing as how I was already so blase I was close to breaking off my wine glass and drawing the shards slowly along the base of my neck, I listened in. Here's how it went:
Girl: Yah, so I lived in Dallas, then we moved to Newport Beach, then Grapevine, then back to Newport Beach. But really I consider Newport Beach my home, I mean that's where I spent my formidable years.
Guy (after a pregnant pause): You...mean...your formative years?
Girl: NO - my FORMIDABLE years, silly!
Guy: Uhhhhh....the phrase is "formative years," not formidable. Formidable means intimidating, like a formidable opponent.
Girl: No, I swear I'm right about that! (OH DEAR GOD SHE'S ARGUING THIS??? I must have fallen through the sidewalk and into the eighth circle of hell) Go look it up! It's formidable! Heehee!
Guy: Uhhhh, I don't think so...
And so on. This went on for approximately 10,000 minutes, or until my ears started bleeding out from listening to this ditz try and carry on her losing battle like a wounded, wet cat.
At that point, I could take no more, and I realized with a tinge of sadness that the glory days for this once-regaled mothership of swank had set. In its dimly-lit, abandoned and slightly depressing wake was a bar that could no longer compete with the younger, hotter models down the street.
We settled up our tab and headed down the street to Key Bar, wondering what it was about Star Bar that we had fallen for in the first place. Or was it just that once upon a time, we didn't mind settling? Ah, the things you do when you're young...
I had moved on, but I wished it well anyway, told it I would call it, but then never did. It was good while it lasted, Star Bar. read more