P&S Lounge
3416 E. Colfax Ave.
320-1200


Everyone knows Colfax Avenue is the longest paved road in these parts. ćMain Street
America,ä itās sometimes called (among other things).

At night, Colfax lights up like a smile, and it covers the entire city ÷ from the foot of the Rocky Mountains to the stretches of the Great Plains.
 

And saying, ćHey, thereās a good bar on Colfaxä is like saying thereās an apparent shortage of attractive concubines for the Chief Executive of either this country or this state (as a matter of fact, Colfax looks like a preschooler drinking a 40-ouncer compared to the alleged oral activity at the Oval Office, and Gov.

Gomer with his ćaffectionä for B.J.)
Not that thereās stiff competitions among the
Monica Lewinskys of Colfax (because there is ÷ pun not intended because I didnāt think of it first); but Colfax is like a life-sized version of the board game Candy Land. Thereās plenty of

gumdrop liquor stores and bars, in addition to the truly seamy side of Mayberry.

Sinister Mayberry. Cherish the thought. (You know Barney Fife also has a mistress? Complete with fur-lined handcuffs and a leather-and-chain love affair.)

That brings me to P&S Lounge on East Colfax on, say, a Monday night. True to Colfax style, P&S Lounge is classic and ambivalent. Thereās even an old sign outside the door thatās shaped like a 7-foot Dean Martin martini glass.

What a progressive and refreshing atmosphere. Not one of these theme bars in Mayberry as of late. Itās not a swing bar. Itās not a sports bar. Itās not a chocolate bar. Instead, itās a nicely-timed version of Colfax 1950s (or 1960s or 1970s ÷ take your pick) nostalgia. Depending on whoās playing at the Bluebird Theater across the street, you might even meet someone from the big city.

I can picture Sheriff Taylor and a neophyte Lewinsky-girl now, circa 1957 in P&S Lounge now.

Sheās got his cigar in her pouty mouth and heās preparing his State of The Mayberry speech. Floyd the barber and Gomer are as loquacious as ever, sitting  in the next booth.
Back in the day when the Bluebird wasnāt the place youād want to take Ellie May and Thelma on a date (unless they were porn stars), thatās what Iām talking about.

-by Frank Kimitch