Some of our friends left the bar one night. Sober friend was leading drunk friend to her car so sober friend could drive drunk friend home.
They turned the corner and saw a girl lying near the street. An ambulance had pulled up. Apparently, the girl fell or passed out and her friends called 911 (that's the right thing to do, people).
Our drunk friend exclaimed as they walked by, "I may be drunk, but I'm not ambulance drunk!"
And that's a good thing.
Clearly Sandbar ghost stories are a hit with our small but loyal audience. Our recent post about Dave's first sighting of the ghost got quite a bit of traffic.
According to Dave, the ghost had been quiet for a long time. Until recently, because of a good friend and regular who shall remain nameless because he is terrified of the ghost and he might lose credibility in his day job if we named him.
This friend decided to start looking into old city records to find out what businesses have been in our building in the past and see if there was a connection. Around that time, the ghost started acting up- and that's when Dave saw him.
The ghost also made an appearance the night of the infamous toilet-trashing episode. While the guys were cleaning the bar up after closing time, they heard the distinctive sound of a chiming doorbell coming from the bathroom. There is nothing in the bar that would make the sound of a doorbell.
Of course the recent ghost activity freaked our friend out, and he's decided to stop snooping in city records. (He also may never use the restroom in the bar again.) And the ghost has been quiet ever since.
One night, Dave got a call from the bartender on duty.
"Casey and Randy are here and asking about you."
Dave went down to the bar right away. Now here's a strange story for you that shows just how small the world can be:
Casey worked at the Sandbar years ago. She used to work the Monday shift with Rachel, and Dave and his buddies went in to see them every week. (Apparently the girls wore bikinis while they tended bar.) This was before Dave even worked at the bar! Casey and Peach were good friends, too. Eventually, she moved on and lost touch with the Sandbar crew.
Randy played basketball at Hutchinson Community College with Dave. They were good friends, but like lots of people in the pre-Facebook age, they lost touch also. (What did we do before Facebook?!)
Somewhere along the way, Casey and Randy met and fell in love and got married. Now, they live in the Kansas City area and own the 5 Guys restaurants up there.
Pretty crazy that two people Dave knew nearly twenty years ago, from different places and times, have ended up together!
It's amazing the funny things you can hear just by standing outside the Sandbar for a mere five minutes.
Last Saturday night, I was waiting outside for Dave. A trio of college-age-ish kids walked up to the patio and stopped.
"You go first," one guy told the lone girl in the group. I'm not sure of his reasoning, maybe he thought the doorguy would be more open to questions from a girl?
"Tell them we've got fifteen people coming," he continued.
She kind of laughed and the three walked towards the door.
Then, one of the guys mentioned the cover charge.
The girl became indignant.
"What!" she exclaimed. "I don't pay cover at bars."
And just then, the door swung open as Dave came out, trapping the girl between the door and the wall. Don't worry, she wasn't hurt. But it was kind of funny. And good timing.
Karma seems to be in full force at the Sandbar. Read our last experience with it here.
The Sandbar was full of parrotheads last night!
Kansas City-area Jimmy Buffett fans and members of the Parrothead Club converged on the Sandbar for their monthly "phlocking." They were decked out in vintage Buffett concert shirts, crazy hats, beads and all sorts of other attire that you don't normally see outside of a Buffett concert tailgate.
Tropical drinks were flowing and Jimmy Buffett tunes were constant. Two of the club members even got to be honorary mermaids during an early hurricane.
The parrotheads weren't the only ones in the bar, though. Early in the evening, a group celebrating a birthday showed up in bright neon outfits. It looked like an '80s theme party of some sort. A couple of the girls were even wearing neon tutus. They danced around the bar for awhile and did a 7-person shotski, and then moved on to the next place.
It was a fun night at the Sandbar, especially if you like Jimmy Buffett tunes!
Just when we thought we'd seen it all, and encountered our share of stupid behavior (see the stories about the attempted table theft and the graffiti on our building), the morons of the world proved us wrong.
Last night, someone thought it would be fun to not only bust the sink in the men's bathroom off the wall, but they also broke the toilet. We also know that someone was spotted in the bathroom taking photos of the damage last night, and we suspect it might have been the vandal. So, if you see pictures pop up on the internet somewhere other than here, please let us know!
(They didn't pull the toilet all the way out from the wall; but I didn't get a picture of it before Dave started working on it.)
So Dave spent Friday afternoon serving as the Sandbar plumber (minus the crack). Big thanks to Habitat's ReStore, though- that's where he found a new sink for a mere $15. Dave is the ReStore's number one fan. That's also where he found the ginormous roll of brown vinyl material that we used to cover our St. Patrick's Day float volcano.
We're hoping this is the end of the stupid. Things come in threes, right?
And to whoever vandalized our bathroom: please don't come back.