Sugar, Lodge Go Punch For Punch

For the boys and bunnies that populate the Front-Park-Vine Street corridor, competition is irrelevant. Their objective is consumption. For the bars that populate this glitzy panorama, competition is only relevant. They may smile, serve drinks, and swap conversation…. Yet, their objective is supremacy.

Every beer served is a bold, silent admonition that regardless of the evening or the economic circumstances, a venue will not concede. Every shot served is a braggadocios, swaggering challenge from one venue to all others… Is this, their present crowd or profits, all they have?

I know I’ve discussed what a late city Columbus is… But, on this night, before the local news anchors had even walked into their studios, much less read their lead story, Sugar Bar, Park Street Patio, and Lodge Bar were stirring… They were not crammed, they were not matching or exceeding their capacities, but they were definitively ahead of where they would be on a normal evening…

Since I’ve mentioned intriguing abnormalities… The typical Sugar and Lodge crowds consist of college students, young professionals, bunnies and bunny chasers… They are fashionable… they are robust… They are what you expect to encounter on a night out in this city… On this night, the encounters were much different… The size of the men, visible in every corner and at every table of both bars, ranged in size from large and muscular to extremely large and muscular… (I spent the night hoping they wouldn’t ask me what twitter was or what I was doing with it)… Don’t misunderstand, the bunnies were still present, but those looking to devour them were more present… (I’ll return to the bunnies in a moment)…

Aside from those who appear to consume steroids and coco puffs for breakfast, the Lodge and Sugar crowds were impressive… Sugar’s slightly less spectacular crowd inhabiting the dance floor and the UFC Fight Party, which took over the upper mezzanine… Lodge Bar’s stellar collection, swarming the venue’s dance floor, lining the bars, the aisles, the walkways, and spilling into the street…

While I’m on the subject of the street, I must take this moment and discuss the electricity which owned the corridor on this evening… From Lodge Bar to Sugar Bar and including other bars, whom I will not mention, as they never send us material despite our request, the crowds were exciting and the energy was pervasive… The interesting note is that I don’t believe it was a crowd of UFC fans or MMA fans or Body Building enthusiasts (despite my previous paragraph)… I simply believe, it was the soul of this city, who, upon realizing that this the showcase weekend for their city, realized they had to be out… They had to be visible… And out and visible they were… Every block and every venue was littered with people…

Every block and every venue was also littered with bunnies… From the packs that snake danced their way across the sidewalks and streets to the tables of them at Lodge Bar to the grinding, scorching collections of them on Sugar’s dance floor, the imposing men could not scare off the reason that I love this job… The outfits were flattering, the smiles and sparkles, not only in the customers, but in some of my favorite employees (and you know who you are) were amazing… The imposing men may have had me wanting to run to my car (and quickly), but the bunnies made me forget where my keys were…

After an hour at Lodge Bar, I returned to Sugar about thirty minutes prior to the Fight Magazine Bikini Contest and the Milk Bar Fashion Show (will discuss both soon)… I obviously missed something when I was gone… The walk from the entrance, through the bar, to the dance floor, and to the right and then left of the stage, where I would ultimately view both shows had to consume all thirty minutes… The venue was that slammed…

Earlier, when I mentioned braggadocios, swaggering challenges, Sugar must have been listening… The lower mezzanine had enough people for a second dance floor; the upper mezzanine had enough for a third dance floor, and the dance floor itself, had enough people to repopulate several countries… In sixty minutes, Sugar had gone from a solid, busier than usual early evening to throwing down the gauntlet for supremacy on this most supreme of evenings… And they were just getting started…

Enter Bruce Buffer and the Fight Magazine Bikini Contest… The concept was simple enough… Seven bunnies, swimsuits, and celebrity judges… Only five of the seven girls wore Fight Magazine t-shirts over their bikinis and the celebrity judges were a non-factor, as the crowd ultimately chose the winner… With that mild criticism stated, the event and the contestants were stellar… My personal pick (which you would know, if you followed us on twitter)… lost to Tiffany, an Amazon looking, bronze skinned muffin… But, the event was worth every moment…

Worth some moments was the Milk Bar Fashion Show… Now, I must preface my critique with this… if you had asked me on Thursday what was Milk Bar, I would have said Milk Bar was the place in A Clockwork Orange… I had no idea that a fashion boutique would assume that name… Given this, I was intrigued as the models commenced walking the runway… That intrigue quickly morphed into annoyance and swayed back and fourth several times…

Their collection was extremely hit or miss… Two ensembles in particular, one male, one female made me want to ask (although they wouldn’t have heard me), which dead couch provided the material? There were some endeavors that were truly hideous… Then again, there was one spectacular female outfit that included a white and black printed top and a perfect skirt… This, along with several contributing pieces, was enough to blunt the twin misfortunes I missed, but barely… If I were given the choice, Dr. Mojoe’s collection of the previous night would be my shopping preference…

With the fashion show concluded, I walked the corridor for the final time, returning to Lodge Bar… The crowd was still substantial, the energy was still palpable, but the vibe and tenacity that Lodge had buzzed with in the early rounds had vanished…. The dance floor was swamped; the remainder of the bar was passable… Typically, Lodge lags and then is slammed…. Tonight, the reverse was true (but slammed, at any time, is still a night worth calling successful)…

I know I’ve woven a boxing metaphor through this entire column and the logical conclusion would be to choose a winner. I’m not going to do that. This is not a cop out. Instead, it is an acknowledgment that both combatants are champions.