nder the flashing theatre awning on the midway of Granville Street on a Friday night, I dug in for what I thought would be a long wait to get into The Roxy. As the doormen surveyed the crowd looking for familiar faces, it was easy to see that for every ten partygoers shuffling their feet in line, an equal amount were met with hugs and shakes, and given admittance without condition.

I decided to drop a little Martiniboys science on them, and was hastily ushered in. The bouncer explained the scenario as he showed me the way. "This is a local's bar,"� he explained, "we like to know everybody so that there aren't any jokers kicking around."

I had my trepidations about what would be held within, but felt well steeped in minutes. The Roxy is a local's bar, and the tough stand the doormen make on letting in new people pays off, because inside is truly one big happy, drunk, dysfunctional family. Dare I say incestual? Equal parts rock and roll bar, road house, and night club, the come-as-you-are patrons enjoy dance, rock, house and hip-hop music, depending on the night.

DJ's split time with live musicians, the stage playing host to touring and local acts of any music variety alike. On this night, one of The Roxy's most popular bartenders performed his cover rock to a great ovation. As I popped me the tops off a couple of Kokanee, gussied up stage left, and the real soul of The Roxy revealed itself.