rad Jamieson is on the dance-floor, sweating up a storm. It’s halfway through a Lost Boys set and the 31-year-old graphics designer - wiry as a whippet bitch and sharp as a slickster - is giving his retro all. The seams on his suit jacket is placed under extreme duress as he runs through his dance-floor repertoire of liquor-motivated moves, twists and knee drops. He’s a strangulated hernia waiting to happen. What’s surprising in all this is not his newfound dance-floor spontaneity, but that he’s here at all.

Let’s start from the beginning. On Monday, I collected a few guinea pigs to have drinks at Esplanade Bier Markt - a place that has existed for five years now, but has been rumored to be giving off some steam as of late. At first blush, it appeared that I had collected the wrong sex of guinea pig, as Monday’s steam, as we would find out, comes in the form of ladies getting their nails manicured. Little pod-like tables were scattered about the main bar area, at which girls relaxed, gossiped and had their nails polished.

“It’s Mani Monday,” said the host when we asked what’s up. “Girls come to get their nails done, have a few martinis and just hang out for a bit. Makes for a nice way to end an otherwise dull Monday.” She’s right, and many of the 'mani girls’ are regulars, penciling in this stop a permanent Monday night 'appointment’.

Brad Jamieson, one of my cohorts at the outing, indicated what a clever singles situation this Mani Mondays business is; a room full of babes (with freshly-done nails, thank you very much) having fun and not wanting to go anywhere in a hurry. Throw in some cocktails and some primitive R&B and you have yourself a peaceful little party. At this party - much like a grade-school dance party - girls chatted at the pods on one area with cocktails at their sides, while groups of men hunkered down at the other side as though waiting for the right time to pounce. Evidently, my guinea pigs were the perfect variety.

I brought a different collection for the next visit to the Bier Markt. It’s a Friday night - late, after all the early diners have abandoned the place. It’s packed with an upmarket college crowd replacing the Mani girls. Younger, less sophisticated but clearly out-to-play, this crowd has some growing up to do but they’re not doing it here. These kids are getting down and genuinely having fun, dancing and drinking to the chill beats of Kenny V.

When Sunday rolled around, I decided to test-drive Bier Markt’s “Spirit of Sundays” party by myself. It was to be a drive-by visit - just slip in for a drink and continue home to behave myself. But I knew I was trouble as soon as I opened that heavy glass door.
The place was rockin’ with a completely different vibe. It’s a smaller crowd, but energetic, as though they had to squeeze one more night out of the weekend if just to connect with the antique spirit of self-indulgent ‘80s beats.

And those '80s beats are delivered by the Lost Boys, a band fronted by Gordon Deppe (formerly of The Spoons), with a mildly wedding band-ish twang. The liquor-swilling party people didn’t seem to care; they’ve come to get their dance on, bumping 'n’ grinding wherever they please. And in the middle of it all there’s a scene, a few showoffs shaking their stuff.

It’s Brad, one of my guinea pigs. He has returned to the scene of the crime and has evidently found his night. He’s dancing amidst the crowd, his face contorting into a mask of ecstasy as the whole room moves to the barbed wire sounds of an old Depeche Mode cover tune.

“Spirit of Sundays was brought to life,” explained Cindy Wilson, marketing manager for Esplanade Bier Markt, “based on CFNY’s signature sounds from the 'eighties. We think of that night as the best secret in town.”

Far from breathing the same fetid nightly lineup as other nightspots in this area, The Bier Markt has created a shack of variety and each night has its place in its funky allotment. But with the nightly lineup there’s an undeniable intrigue to the place that repeated visits doesn’t dim, even when the sensory delights have faded. DE.



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