Public Barbarity

There are no taps.

There is no food.

There is no glassware.

And the entertainment is on the walls.

It's barbaric, I tell you.

And cool as hell.

At the Barbary Coast, Wilmington's oldest continually operating bar, the sign in the window reads: "We've Upped Our Standards...Up Yours!

With a slogan like that, one can only imagine what the Barbary Coast was like before they upped their standards. But venture in, and you won't be disappointed.

I'd been wanting to visit since I first heard about it. Having received a message on FaceBook this morning about how my "uncle" Thomas Jefferson dealt with the Barbary Coast Pirates, I should have known I was destined to visit today. And with a parking space available just across the street when I rode past, the deal was sealed.

I asked barman Tyson how many beers are offered. He didn't know. "Lots."

And if the Lupu-Luau Coconut IPA (Dogfish Head) is any indication of owner Eli Ellsworth's beer sense, the Barbary Coast is not all that barbaric.

And while you're enjoying your beer, you have three choices: study the walls, talk to the barman or engage with other barbarians.

The walls hold some interesting bric-a-brac, and Ellsworth decides what gets put up and what does not. For example, the massive brown skeleton that appears to be screaming into the wall (below) is an actual prop from the movie Mario Bros. Some gal got blasted away at the end, and apparently wound up at the Barbary Coast. Another picture features Dennis Hopper, photographed during a scene from "Blue Velvet." And Ellsworth recently scored a dragon's head from the last Azalea Festival (Top right, above). The bar rail alone belongs in a museum.

Is the decor tacky? Hell, yes. But it's fun to quaff with such random wackiness, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't have the urge to scratch my name in that bar rail when Tyson wasn't looking. He told me that the place gets pretty busy from Wednesday on through Sunday. Patrons include regulars and first-timers who want to sample a bit of old Wilmington--or at least the Wilmington that existed when Hitler invaded Poland in 1939.

The PubScout has quaffed in many places at both ends of the "classy/classless" spectrum. And I've learned one thing: If the beer is good and the people are good, the pub is good. Even without entertainment, taps or food.

Sure, glasses would make the beer taste even better, but then you have to wash them. Who needs that?

So will I be going back to the Barbary Coast?

Damned right. At least until I can get my name on that bar rail.