Clarks on Main
As I was walking down Main Street, late of course, last Saturday night, my dive radar was all of a sudden on full alert. Just to my left was a large silver store front reminiscent of a 50s era department store promising, in big bold letters, to be The Home of Easy Credit. Encouraging, considering Americas credit woes as of late. This blast from the past front housed two joints Clarks and Deans. The one I was inexplicably drawn to this particular evening was Clarks.
I made my way inside to the bar and ordered a Dos Equis. They didnt have it to my dismay. However I was given a decent enough proposition to rectify this simple supply issue. The bartender an eclectic dark haired woman sporting a boy scouts button up, complete with patches, suggested an alternative from the Czech Republic similar enough to my failed request. This suggestion came with the promise that if I didnt like it, I didnt have to pay for it. A proposition I didnt pass up. Well, I liked it. So, I sat there content enough perched on my bar stool and drank my Czech beer.
It wasnt long before I found myself in a conversation with the proprietor of this establishment, Jim Pirtle, 48. Jim, I was told purchased the building in 1996, however the building itself had been built in 1893 and originally served as a department store. It boasted the record as the tallest building in America at that time as well as the owner of the third electric elevator in the country.
As I began taking notice of my surroundings I couldnt help but observe sections of the bar are wallpapered with old editions of the Houston chronicle dating as far back as the early sixties, headlines noticeably reading Oswald Killed JFK, Police Say. Suspended from the ceiling a few Bicycles, an extensive collection of discarded hats, rescued as Im told from the bayous of our neighboring state to the East. Strewn about in no particular order are numberless pieces of local abstract art, a wall of old shoes still in their boxes, and several racks of LP records. This was sort of an accidental montage to decades of previous purposes. A little bit of those past identities left behind each time now comprised the eclectic decor that I could almost guarantee belongs exclusively to Clarks. I at least can say in all my wanderings. Ive not yet seen a repeat.
Depending on what day of the week you find yourself at Clarks you can partake in any sorted type of event. Every weekend hosts any number of live bands and touring indie musicians from all over the country, Tuesdays Chess, and Wednesdays starting at nine open-mic poetry nights. The drinks are cheap, but not without weight. The staff is diverse and friendly. On a street riddled with clich hip hop clubs and your standard dining needs. Clarks gives even the most skeptical none-corporates a reason to hit Main Street and throw a couple back.
Clarks can be found at 314 Main ST., Houston TX (Downtown/Midtown Houston)
Houston Examiner Article (Clarks on main)
As I was walking down Main Street, late of course, last Saturday night, my dive radar was all of a sudden on full alert. Just to my left was a large silver store front reminiscent of a 50s era department store promising, in big bold letters, to be The Home of Easy Credit. Encouraging, considering Americas credit woes as of late. This blast from the past front housed two joints Clarks and Deans. The one I was inexplicably drawn to this particular evening was Clarks.
I made my way inside to the bar and ordered a Dos Equis. They didnt have it to my dismay. However I was given a decent enough proposition to rectify this simple supply issue. The bartender an eclectic dark haired woman sporting a boy scouts button up, complete with patches, suggested an alternative from the Czech Republic similar enough to my failed request. This suggestion came with the promise that if I didnt like it, I didnt have to pay for it. A proposition I didnt pass up. Well, I liked it. So, I sat there content enough perched on my bar stool and drank my Czech beer.
It wasnt long before I found myself in a conversation with the proprietor of this establishment, Jim Pirtle, 48. Jim, I was told purchased the building in 1996, however the building itself had been built in 1893 and originally served as a department store. It boasted the record as the tallest building in America at that time as well as the owner of the third electric elevator in the country.
As I began taking notice of my surroundings I couldnt help but observe sections of the bar are wallpapered with old editions of the Houston chronicle dating as far back as the early sixties, headlines noticeably reading Oswald Killed JFK, Police Say. Suspended from the ceiling a few Bicycles, an extensive collection of discarded hats, rescued as Im told from the bayous of our neighboring state to the East. Strewn about in no particular order are numberless pieces of local abstract art, a wall of old shoes still in their boxes, and several racks of LP records. This was sort of an accidental montage to decades of previous purposes. A little bit of those past identities left behind each time now comprised the eclectic decor that I could almost guarantee belongs exclusively to Clarks. I at least can say in all my wanderings. Ive not yet seen a repeat.
Depending on what day of the week you find yourself at Clarks you can partake in any sorted type of event. Every weekend hosts any number of live bands and touring indie musicians from all over the country, Tuesdays Chess, and Wednesdays starting at nine open-mic poetry nights. The drinks are cheap, but not without weight. The staff is diverse and friendly. On a street riddled with clich hip hop clubs and your standard dining needs. Clarks gives even the most skeptical none-corporates a reason to hit Main Street and throw a couple back.
Clarks can be found at 314 Main ST., Houston TX (Downtown/Midtown Houston)
Houston Examiner Article (Clarks on main)