8:18 p.m. We arrive at Pints Party Pub and Patio. Try to say that three times fast. No really, do it. It would make for a great drinking game.
8:20 p.m. Gone are the neon colors from the space’s former inhabitant, the Surf Shack. The neighbors must be thrilled. The inside has been completely reimagined as well, with a rectangular bar eating up the center of the room. The floor and a good portion of the walls are covered in enough wood paneling to make a Hooters waitress jealous. It’s so much paneling, in fact, that it smells like a lumberyard.
8:22 p.m. We notice a beer pong table on one side and a boxing game in the other. Large windows line Court Avenue and enormous windows swing open like doors to expose a small patio. A clothes line hanging from the ceiling displays T-shirts featuring beer mugs and a tag line that says, “Sorry, I party.” We can’t wait to see if Pints lives up to its own hype.
8:36 p.m. A group of guys arrives and commandeers the beer pong table. They’re all around the same age, wearing similar clothing and exhibiting the same level of heightened enthusiasm for, well, everything. Fist bumps and high-fives ensue among this button-down-dress-shirt set.
8:39 p.m. We decide to check out the patio. A group is set up in the corner, grilling and serving tacos and burritos. Two girls seated behind us, inside the bar but up against the windows, are bragging to a seemingly sober plaid-shirted fellow about the way they spent their day. “We’ve been drinking for six hours.”
8:41 p.m. The six-hour-accomplishment girls have moved on to more emotional fare. They’re wondering what will happen in their future. Whether they will live in the same state and what would happen if they didn’t. And what would happen if they did. And would their kids be friends?
8:43 p.m. Two women arrive and sit next to us, both wearing University of Tennessee shirts, presumably in town for the women’s NCAA basketball regionals. They set a credit card on the table and wait.
8:47 p.m. And wait.
8:50 p.m. And wait. And when nobody comes, they start to look restless. They ask us if there are servers, and we’re not sure.
9:04 p.m. We move inside and sit at the bar. The DJ plays Kesha’s “Blow.” Unless one considers fist pumps to be an accurate predictor for impending bedlam, Pints has a ways to go.
9:20 p.m. We spot a fist pump/jump shot combination on the other side of the bar. The DJ is working hard to inject some life into this bunch.
9:23 p.m. We spot a commercial on TBS for farmersonly.com, a dating site that’s reserved for farmers and ranchers, because city folk just don’t understand.
10:02 p.m. We spot a patron using one of the chrome bar chairs as a walker, shuffling along as he walks the chair out in front of him. This guy sure knows how to party.
10:37 p.m. Ke$ha’s “Blow” is played again, but this party pub hasn’t quite made it past the occasional head bob.
10:57 p.m. The hands-in-the-air party train finally arrives as a group of about 20 fist pump their way into the bar, which is our cue to leave. This place is about to blow.
Pints Party Pub and Patio
Find it: 319 Court Ave.