Doug Clark: Names for Apple’s bar hip, hideous

With the world scheduled to end sometime on Friday, I thought it would be a good idea to tie up some loose ends, like helping Bob Apple choose the right name for the new South Hill sports bar that he plans to open on Super Bowl Sunday.

I know what you’re thinking.

You’re thinking: Hey, if the Mayans are right and the world really does become a sunken soufflé, isn’t naming a bar sort of irrelevant?

Not really.

Watching the world end does sound exciting, but I figure this prophetic demise will be another one of those complete fiascos like that fake Y2K calamity.

If that happens, then what better way to soothe our apocalyptic disappointments than with a drink or three at a new bar with a highly catchy name?

For the record, the future bar’s owner is known for the following two contributions to humanity:

He spent eight years advocating for the “little guy” on the Spokane City Council.

He once stopped stocking toilet paper in the commode at his Hillyard bar, The Comet. He did this in an attempt to thwart thieves who were stealing his toilet paper, which speaks volumes about the quality of Comet customers.

Apple sold the Comet awhile back. When I heard he was planning a new watering hole at 56th and Regal, my old Ferris High School loafing grounds, I turned to my readers to help him name the joint.

Some 50 of you responded for a chance at immortality and for the free drink and prizes that I promised to the winner.

And sure enough. One of you did, in my estimation, come up with the perfect bar name.

Before we proclaim the winner, however, let’s look at some of the runners-up that either made me (A) laugh, (B) wince or (C) wonder about how much weed the submitter had been smoking.

So here goes. (I’m only using first names unless I have a clear idea about spelling.)

• Jim Wheatley, a known Hillyard fixture, suggested “The Bruised Apple.” Apple’s response: “I like my fruit a little fresher.”

• Kaye likes “Bobbin’ For Apples.” Apple’s response: “Only works during Halloween.”

• “Cheery Apple Sports Bar” came from Vicky. “I must’ve advocated the right issues,” notes Apple.

• “Mr. Crabapple’s, cuz he’s kinda crabby sometimes and his name is Apple,” came from an unnamed caller. “All I have to say is NO,” quips Apple.

• Barry Smith wants “The Road Apple.”

“Now wait a minute,” says Apple, who knows the value of having a good bar name.

True story: Before opening the Comet, Apple hit up all of his friends for name suggestions just like we’re doing here.

“I wanted a name nobody could criticize,” he says. “We wanted something clean.”

And what’s cleaner than a comet streaking gloriously across the span of heaven?

Or the popular cleanser that goes by the same name?

Or the Comet car, which was known for the clean lines of its back window?

And so the Comet opened to all of Apple’s expectations.

Except for a week later, when perhaps some of the drunks from Hillyard’s rival bars began calling it …

The Vomit.

“I guess we weren’t thinking too cleanly,” laments Apple.

• “I can see the neon sign in my mind,” says Brian Christoferson. “The South Hillers are going to love it: “(fecal adjective deleted) Council Chamber.”

Apple’s response: “I’ve actually said that a few times myself.”

• “Apple’s iPad Mini Bar” comes from Dan Gannon.

Apple’s response: “It’s not gonna be mini, it’s gonna be 4,700 square feet.”

• Matt Monroe was bubbling with enthusiasm over calling Apple’s bar “Hell.” As in, “Where are you going after work? … I’m going to Hell for a drink.” Or “It’s a Hell of a bar or Hell on Regal.”

Joint response from Apple and Clark: Hell NO!

• So many pretenders, such as … “The Elegant Ermine,” (too weird), “Apple Sauced” (overserving’s a big no-no), “Big Apple” (not bad), “The Regal Flush” (cards, or toilet), “Crabapple Inn” (sounds like a fussy Vermont bed and breakfast), “The Sipping Hippie” (don’t take the brown acid), “Bob’s Beers & Bidets” (no bidets allowed in a sports bar), “Crap Less” (there’s a surefire ticket to success), “The Right Place,” (a dated, but nice sentiment), “The Charmin Palace” (Bob’s way too cheap for Charmin) …

Yeah, I could keep going with this for quite awhile.

But eventually, our trail of road apples lead to Ron Silver, who writes …

“There is only one name that would be best for Bob Apple’s bar. The APP.”

Bingo!

You have the name reference and hip factor that denotes the microchip age in which we live.

There’s an app for that.

Apple will have to offer free Wi-Fi, of course. But it’s a South Hill winner if I’ve ever heard one.

Meet me at the APP. It has a ring to it.

But does the barman like it?

“I think it’s got some potential there,” he says. “I’m trying to work around with it.”

Not exactly a raving endorsement.

But I’ll say it again. Silver struck bar name gold and I’ll pay him off either way.

So now we wait, knowing that it’s all up to Apple.

Or the Mayans.