846 Broadway has been a lot of things over the years. Failed restaurants have come and gone; bars have landed here, done well for a little bit, then died. I've spent time at every one of 846 Broadway's incarnations over the past seven years and, with the exception of their convenience (the building is a block from the Westword office), hated everything about them.
Until the Fainting Goat. Exactly a year ago, the Goat took over what had been Moon Time, a Widespread Panic bar that, during the day, was a decent-enough place to hang out but, come three or four in the afternoon, would suddenly get overrun with the one thing you really can't avoid in a Widespread Panic-themed bar: Widespread Panic fans. They would hijack the jukebox, flood the bar, take over the rooftop patio and do strange things in the bathrooms. They would yell and scream and listen to Widespread Panic, and I would do my best to be out of there before the place reached critical hippie mass, but I wasn't always fast enough.
Thankkfully, Moon Time -- which had taken over for the Minturn -- tanked sooner rather than later.
Enter the Fainting Goat, a half-Irish neighborhood bar with a brief menu, good french fries, great happy hour deals, and the same rooftop patio I'd frequented during the Moon Time days. The bar pours all of the best whiskeys (Jameson, Jameson, Jameson and Tullamore Dew) and one of the best, worst whiskeys in the world out of the well (Wall Street whiskey, which tastes like paint thinner and liquid smoke), and, in time, the staff became accustomed to hosting all manner of Westword parties, strategy sessions and "meetings" in its first-floor bar.
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And now, the Goat is turning one year old -- which is amazing to me, because I could swear I've already spent more than 365 nights drinking there. All of the party details (including drink specials and live music from the Michael Collins pipes and drum band) are in the picture above, so if you're feeling rather Mick-ish tonight, stop by and help them celebrate.