Natasha Kinky
All right, we might as well confess: We’ve been plotting at Night Ranger Headquarters. Late at night, in a windowless room with just a single 60-watt light bulb illuminating the red and caramely highlights in our hair (which reminds us — roots are probably showing; must make hair appointment) …wait, what? Oh, yeah, we digress. Anyway, we’ve been planning our bloodless coup to become dictator of Kansas City. Though we have been advised that perhaps a bloody coup would be more effective, we feel bloodless is really the way to go. Less messy, you know, and the junta that doesn’t slay together stays together. Our first order of business would be to channel the Pendergast era and bring back its sinful fun. We’ll command bars to stay open all night, 3 a.m. license be damned. The yuppie bastards who want to make Westport into Plaza Lite will be driven out of town, and downtown will become Westport North. And a downtown arena? Fuck, yeah. Our new NHL team, the Tornados, will play there, and the stadium will be affectionately nicknamed the Trailer Park.
Seriously, we’re pretty excited about all the new places that are popping up in southern downtown. They’re creating a bustle and energy that this town has been sorely lacking. Another plus is that all of these places are within walking distance, and there is nothing we love more than the urban walk. So, when we heard that Bar Natasha (the newest addition to the neighborhood) was already the hottest place in town, we rushed over to check it out. In fact, we made a night of it. After work on Friday, we walked to the Brick for happy hour, went to the Cube for our friend Kym’s art opening, then ended the night at BN. Leaving BN, we were gratified to see that there was a sizeable crowd milling in the street, a heartening sight on a non-First Friday in winter.
Located at 19th Street and Main, between DB’s and that office-looking furniture store on the corner, Missy Koonce’s new joint has been open since December 31. It’s a large, modern space that reeks of swankitude with its concrete floor, brightly painted walls, fresh flowers and works by different artists on the walls. (Koonce says the exhibit will change each month.) A circular stage with a piano is the focal point of the room. Off to the back is a smaller space that houses a gorgeous sofa and loveseat in blue velvet, which we immediately coveted. That small space was also the smoking area (it’s allowed only there and at the bar, which is also at the back of the room), and it also opens onto a small corridor that connects to In the Life, the gift shop where coats can be checked.
The hype about Bar Natasha is justified. We had been told that late on Fridays and Saturdays were the times to go, since there was a cabaret show. However, our friend Steve had been there earlier that night for happy hour, and he reported that it was packed. It was still hopping when we got there around 10, though the crowd seemed to trickle out around midnight or so — understandable given its 1 a.m. closing time.
“It’s crowded, but it feels open,” said Research Assistant Julianne. By some miracle (attributed to the alignment of stars and our incredible skills in hovering and sidling), we managed to snag two tables for our large party. And so, the drinking commenced. We ordered off the martini menu, which consists of seven varieties. Our favorite was the chocolate martini, which had a generous swirl of chocolate syrup on the bottom of the glass, followed with Absolut Vanilla, Godiva chocolate liqueur and a splash of milk. Natasha’s Dream, which sounded relatively innocuous with its inclusion of “homemade ice cream” (as well as Absolut Mandrin, Licor 43 and a splash of milk), was in reality a stiff little number. (Um. We suppose you can insert your own wet-dream joke here.)
In between drinks, we wandered about. The crowd was a varied mix of urban tribes, from gay to straight to bemulleted — we saw one impressive example that was drill sergeant in front and Ramen-noodle in back. (Yes, we are twelve years old and will never cease to giggle at things like that.) “It’s very eclectic,” Koonce says of the clientele. “There’s not necessarily any rhyme or reason … lots of people come in with their parents.” We ran into Late Night Theater’s Ron Megee and were chatting with him when a society matron rushed up to him. “Where’s Missy?” she asked. “We brought David Basse.” So, the man with the hat got up and crooned a few songs before the show resumed its cabaret tone. “This is really testing my memory of show tunes,” RA Nadia said.
Sadly, some of the RAs were not all about the music, but the NR was not conscious of it. She ended up in the back, doing a shot with Ron and the Unicorn Theatre crew. And also (ahem) getting some lip action. But, under soon-to-be Dictator Ranger, this sort of free luv will be rampant in the new administration. And that’s an order.
