Audio By Carbonatix
Sometimes you wander into a neighborhood joint and find the stools occupied by a gaggle of sleepy, surly, set-in-their-ways regulars all too ready to give your sudden presence the dreaded stink-eye. “Who the fuck are you?” their silence and stares say, “and what the fuck are you doing in here?” But the Kentucky Inn (890 South Pearl Street) is not one of those joints.
My most enjoyable trip in a series of incredibly pleasant visits involves a nearly three-hour-long conversation with Lorraine, a mulleted mainstay of the recently remodeled Kentucky. (The owners of the nearby Candlelight Tavern bought the place in 2007 and provided a tasteful facelift.) Over the course of three or four pitchers of PBR, Lorraine tells stories of the Kentucky’s well-worn bar and the Denver man who built just about every Formica-surfaced bar in the metro area; of the crass photo-shop owner who was so possessive of his parking spot two doors down that he’d call the cops on bar patrons who dared occupy it (the standoff ended when a drunk driver put a four-door through the front of the man’s shop and he moved on); of the dives she used to frequent during her underage days — the ones that threw her out for playing “Nights in White Satin” on the jukebox; and of the long brick blocks (blond on the outside, golden-brown from cigarette smoke on the inside) that make up the Kentucky’s signature structure.
We also spend a good chunk of time discussing dice and the potential to win a month’s rent or more by throwing them. Unlike most dives with games of chance, the Kentucky offers customers the opportunity to win pots (which have climbed as high as $1,900) with every drink. $1 = 1 roll. Yahtzee wins the whole jar, while four of a kind or a full house nets a free drink. But pots haven’t been that high, Lorraine laments, since the house started paying out $25 and $50 for four of a kind when the stash reaches $500 and $1,000, respectively.
So what if there are gaudy new hi-def TVs, brand-spankin’-new video games and a remodeled bathroom? The carpet’s original, and so are the people. And the very best joints are remarkable not just for their decor, but (oftentimes more so) for their clientele — the extended family of loyal lushes, drunks, day-timers and swing-shifters who wouldn’t dream of letting a little spackle get in between them and their friends. Or their drinks. Or their fortunes.
For damn near sixty years, the Kentucky Inn has been a refuge for the Lorraines of Wash Park (West) and the Drews who wander in for cold beer and conversation. If it doesn’t continue for another sixty…
I don’t even want to imagine it.
