Never take those words lightly, especially when visiting the Cafe Ole in downtown Boise. Located at the 8th Street Marketplace (Oh wait, my bad, I need to get with today's lingo. Let's try that again.) Located in BoDo, the Cafe Ole provides drinks and entertainment to help cool down on those hot summer days. More importantly, it does so on Wednesdays with the aid of one man. His name: Fabulous Floyd Stanton.
I first discovered the entertainment styling of Floyd about 9 years ago. This was back when Cafe Ole still had an outdoor patio in which customers could enjoy a nice lunch or dinner outside in the warm night air. Floyd was a karaoke singer, and most of his show involved him singing hits of Motown. Occasionally Floyd would let singers from the audience up on stage, but for the most part, it was the smooth, soulful sound of Floyd that would take the night home. Okay, maybe there was this other guy, an under-aged man fueled up on mountain dew and cigarettes that would sometimes rock the crowd, but I was too busy receiving free tequila shots from a friend of mine that worked at the outdoor mini bar at the Ole.
As usual, time went on and the Cafe Ole became just a memory. Until last summer, that is. I stumbled across an ad that informed me that Fabulous Floyd was still performing at the new and improved Cafe Ole. The patio had been taken away and the restaurant expanded, but it was good to know the same entertainment was still being provided.
It was an August day when two friends and I made our way down to the Cafe Ole. We sat down and ordered our customary pitcher of Bud Light (decently priced; not too expensive, but not exactly cheap.) The area where Floyd performed was off to the left of the restaurant, so many of the people would just stick their heads in and listen to Floyd for a song, and then disappear into the night. A few tables were full and enjoyed the music, but many were just there for the the 2 for 1 margaritas.
Which brings us to our story. After our third pitcher of beer, many laughs, and a lot of Floyd, the three of us decided to move on to margaritas. Our waitress came back to our table and upon us ordering, she informed us that we could get the same deal with a margarita pitcher. We happily agreed to this proposition. Eighteen dollars later and we soon had our two margarita pitchers. The first pitcher was gone in a flash. As we dove into pitcher number two, the tequila began to really take effect. My two friends and I decided it would be quicker to simply place our straws directly into the pitcher and drink that away. Needless to say, the waitress had quite the mess to clean up after we left.
Of course, we did leave shortly after that second pitcher. We closed out our tabs and gave a silent good-bye to Floyd. He took a brief pause to smile his flashy grin and continued to sing the hits of Lionel Ritchie. As we stumbled out the door, I noticed some camping chairs that had been left behind. In my Margarita stupor, I picked them up and carried them out the bar. Most people would have found a way home, but it was nine o'clock, so we decided to push on through the night.
We stumbled across the street and through the courtyard where Alive after Five had just finished up. The families had cleared out, making way for the college students and drunks of the night. The fountain was at full blast and one friend was convinced to run through the fountain. Being new to town, he ran ahead with full conviction. Surprisingly, he came away unscathed and not a drop of water was on him. Being the nice friend that I am, I told him to run through again because he was still dry. Half joking, I expected the answer to be no, but my friend ran through again, this time getting drenched from head to toe.
Two dry guys and a wet one proceeded on into the night. Still not sure why, but we decided to go visit the Balcony. Now, the balcony is a dance club, and while dancing is fun, we tend to only go dancing with a group of people, many of them girls. The Balcony is a good place to do this, and the drinks are average priced. Plus, my now drenched friend had never been there, so we might have tricked him into going there.
The Balcony was nearly empty. We ordered a beer a piece and went outside to sit down. Upon telling a story of my 21st birthday, I mentioned how my friend Ken and I had each drank about six Long Island Teas here at the balcony. Towards the end of the night, being polite as I was, I puked in the bathroom while Ken puked over the balcony at the Balcony. Jokingly, my friend in the wet clothes said he was going to pee over the side of the balcony. With insistence from my other friend, the soaking wet man finally was able to squeeze out enough liquid to go rolling down the awning of the balcony. It was with much relief that no one was standing down below.
So, what have we learned tonight? We have learned that Margaritas are good, in moderation. We have learned that everyone should go to the downtown Cafe Ole on Wednesday at least once to witness the styling of Fabulous Floyd. Of course, we have learned that you must always run through the fountain twice. Oh yeah, and when you grab some camping chairs from inside the Cafe Ole, they probably belong to someone, so it's a good idea to return them. If not you end up carrying them to the Balcony and the other bars you attend that night. It's really more a pain than anything. And that the Balcony is good for dancing, karaoke, and fun times, but not for peeing off the edge.
* I have left my friend nameless here. They can own up to who they are if they want.*
"Now here you must leave all distrust behind; let your cowardice die on this spot."- Dante