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Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Thing 103: Piratz Tavern (Yarrrrrrrrr!)

Piratz Tavern in Silver Spring
Fer' a tried and true buccaneer like meself, 'tis hard to find a meal in this District O' Columbia. A pirate's sup is a raucous affair of bubblin' pots and unendin' flagons of Rhum, not the dainty plates and Marrrrtinis of you landlubber set here in the D. o' C. (Once I ran me blade straight through a scurvy dog who felt me parrot Polly wasn't a proper patron for his establishment -- 'tis little surprise me and me mates have not been asked to dinner since, me thinks).

So what's a pirate to do when he wishes to woo a fine wench in an atmosphere befittin' his station? If there be coin in his pocket and time on his hands, he sets sail for the Spring of Silver in Maryland, where be Piratz Tavern, a tasty bit o' stuff less than a day's march from the Metro's Line o' Red.

Model ships adorn the walls
Once yer peepers get a glance o' this place, ye can plainly see it be a place for scalawags and rapscallions alike. Skeletons and skulls be found adorning what methinks ye landlubbers call a "beer garden" and a Jolly Roger waves proudly over the rooftop. Step inside and YARR! This be a place for Dred Pirate and his mates!

Flickering in the darkness ye see a veritable nightmare of swords and skeletons...this not be an eatery for the faint of heart. There be but one challenge (and it be a doozy, me friends). When me mates and me stepped in through the Tavern's door, we was met square in the face with the Pirate's worst enemy, the innocent laughter o' children!

In the back bar, skeletons and swords are a warning to any rowdy landlubbers
Yes, me friends, the foredeck of this eatery is a place for families and other landlubber types. It be sickening to me guts and almost made me turn round and sail fer' home, I ain't afraid to tell ye. But past the searing smiles of the happy familes be the Davey Jones' Locker Bar, a place where true pirates be found.

Tis there that a fish outta water like meself can sit and sup on Salmagundi, the pirate's stew, and Grog, the deadly concoction of rhums and spices no landlubber can endure without a designated navigator for the voyage home. The food be tasty enough, me think, but the real excitement be found on the walls and behind the bar, where One-Eyed Mike serves up fresh Grog with tales of the seven seas.

GFD shows off his kill.  Yarr!
If ye think ye ready for a trip into the world of the dred pirate, set ye course for Piratz Tavern. If ye think ye not ready, then ye be' nothing but a scalawag and a dirty bilge rat. Don't cross me or ye shall feel the cold taste of be blade against ye throat!

Today's blog was guest written by Peg Leg Santoro. You can reach him at, but don't insult him or he might make you walk the plank!

One year ago: Georgia Brown's.

The author, Peg Leg Santoro, in his natural environment with a mug of grog.


ScottE. said...

I've been out there once was a lot of fun. We sat in the back and really played around with the musicians...Good Times.

Annie said...

I LOVE Piratz Tavern. There's a big party there Saturday to celebrate the release of Pirates for Sail's first CD.