I’m going to go on record as saying that I’ve been getting tipsy on Monday nights purely by accident. The problem (if, of course, I admit that there is a problem) is that there are always cheap-ass drink specials on Mondays.
So with just about every bar having a $10 minimum on credit-card tabs and with me constantly being light on cash, I end up perched on a barstool ever Monday for a lot longer than I’d set out to be.
You might ask why I’m always out on Monday nights, and I might answer that, well, just because. Still, if you (or I) need a less vague pretext for my excursion last Monday, let’s just say I wanted to see a movie, which is why my port-of-call was Cave’s Lounge in Arlington.
Now, I didn’t get to see any moving pictures – Monday Movie Night at Cave’s doesn’t start until, a’hem, March. But about 15 other patrons and I did get some serious drinking done, proving that Mondays aren’t all they aren’t cracked up to be, especially at Cave’s.
Cave’s is awesome. It’s the closest you can get to a noir tiki bar in Tarrant County, the staff is friendly, and the booze is a steal. I had high hopes when I got in the van: www.myspace.com/ caveslounge advertises MONDAY MOVIE NIGHT, yes, in all caps. Given that the joint’s vibe is right up my alley – the décor is kitschy early-’60s mod with a touch of Latino punk – I had every reason to be psyched: Would movie night at such a cool joint involve A Fistful of Dollars? Mario Bava’s Planet of the Vampires? A Russ Meyer double-feature?!
Movie nights at bars – and drink specials in general – have one purpose: to get boozers out of the house on nights when they would normally stay in. And so bars show B-movies or mainstream movies pretending to be B-movies, all in an attempt to lovingly exploit our hipsters’ love of all things awful, rude, and cool. And in my opinion, it pays off. Who wants to go to a bar and watch Tommy Boy for the 7,098th time? Savvy film buffs want stuff they can’t catch on TNT on lazy Saturday afternoons.
Unfortunately, though, some bar owners seem to think that screening Eraserhead or a bizarre kung-fu flick like Crippled Masters might be a little too out-there for most customers. And so most of the time we get another John Hughes movie, mainly because, y’know, big-spending, little-tipping college kids have a perverse fascination with the Me Decade. (Hmm. I wonder why … . )
Which brings us to last Monday. I’ve always thought of Cave’s as the kind of place I’d like to open. Even the Missy Elliot jam that assaulted my eardrums when I walked in didn’t change my opinion.
I noticed the glaring lack of movie dialogue in the air but decided to get comfy anyway. Then Operation Ivy’s “Take Warning” came on the juke, and I knew that Monday would not be ill-spent. I derisively scoffed at the $2.50 tall-domestic-drafts special, which, I think, made everyone there look at me like I had three heads. (I am nothing if not completely foolish.) After a couple, three, maybe 12 bottles of Stella Artois and Maredsous, I realized that my craving for cine-magic had vanished, which goes to prove that with a vibe like Cave’s, gimmicks – and drink specials – aren’t really necessary. – Steve Steward
Cave’s Lounge
900 W Division St, Arlington.
817-460-5510
