Wild Duck Inn......now if this place didnt reak of quality, then the fish dish straight from the Fraser River wasnt on special. From the great view, to the flooded parking lot, this place had everything from cheap booze to cheap women) hell most of the dancers must be in a retirement home now in Langley somewhere or collecting change somewhere in Pocompton. (border of Poco and Pitt Meadows)
Since it looks like happy hours are soon to be back, I will say the Side Door on Mondays and Tuesdays with .99 cent highballs from 7-9pm was pretty much the best bar ever for us west side kids. Dance floor was on fire and a ton of UBC'ers getting up to no good!
Yes, I think you're right about Sundays. If you weren't there by 6:45 on those days for the 7pm opening you weren't getting in until after 9……and everyone was GUNNED! Good times.
Where exactly was the side door located? Was it close to UBC? Being brown, I never crossed Granville And Broadway......Big Bamboo(Later Daddy hoes) and the Denny's next door was as far as I could get.....
It is probably true when I said that I spent more time in the average week at the Side Door than I did any of the UBC libraries. Drink specials every night of the week. Dance floor was tiny but it really allowed me to be noticed and make an arse of myself within minutes of being on the floor. "I didn't ask you to dance! I said you look fat in those pants" Typical line followed rejection at asking someone to dance. That's what Reedie told me anyway. After my lifetime ban from the Side Door(5th year UBC) I did in fact go to Lola's about 7 years ago. Of course, I was tough to notice with my new hair style...........Bouncers certainly were wankers for the most part but getting to know management allowed a little more flexibility in our behaviour....until the bomb threat after a Sunday night ejection.........from a phone booth at the Macs on Dunbar if I'm not mistaken. Good times good times.
The Rendezvous at the Holiday Inn on Broadway between Oak and Cambie.
The Jolly Alderman at 12th and Cambie...I turned 19 in there, faint recollections of getting tackled as I was making a speech standing on one of those little square tables with the red terry tablecloth. My shorts (it was after a soccer practise) had been pulled down around my ankles and my ass landed on the waiter's (Wally, and old geezer who used to wear a butler suit and was always downing shooters behind the pillars where the bartender couldn't see) face.