Adventures of the Lost Expedition, Part XVI: Lost and Found.

Sept. 2, 1983

Adventures of the Lost Expedition, Part XVI: Lost and Found

CAPTAIN’S LOG, BAR DATE XVI: It was a seasoned squad of space travelers that gathered for the final leg of the Lost Expedition’s quest to have a drink in every licensed establishment on Main Street, from downtown Buffalo to the Genesee County line.

          Most of the crew that assembled in the designated staging area, the Old Country Inn at 10900 Main St., Clarence, consisted of veterans of previous missions.

          It was also an overwhelmingly large bunch. The party quickly swelled to 10, and then a dozen. Happily, the Old Country Inn, a homelike, wood-paneled series of dining rooms with pottery on display, had spare tables to push together. An altogether obliging, motherly staff kept the provisions coming – $4 pitchers of Old Vienna and Friday night fish, fried ($3.95) or baked ($4.25), delicious either way.

          A review posted in the hallway acknowledged the hominess (this used to be an old farmhouse) and the hospitality (the work of three women named Mary Ellen, Karen and Mary Fran). As the safari exited, it encountered the three members of The Deans of Dixieland and Swing, who were about to set up for an evening of music to accompany the late-night menu.

          Though scouting reports had led the Captain to believe there were just two more outposts to visit before the long-sought Genesee County goal was reached, those reports were wrong. Right across the street stood a place not included on the charts – the Hadi-O Café at 10875 Main, put together by an expatriate Iranian architect. His touch could be seen inside in what might be called Eclectic Mission décor – antiques of various eras and greenery under stucco and dark wood, a motif that was delightfully carried over into the restrooms.

          It was not delight, but chagrin that greeted the expeditioners, who now numbered 14, as they settled into the small back room, inspiring lingering friends of the management into flight. That and their free and easy rearrangement of tables depreciated one and all in the eyes of the waitress. Nevertheless, $4 pitchers of imported beer were procured, along with victuals for the latecomers, who gave glowing praise to the gourmet kitchen.

          Eager for action after two sit-down stops, crew members found all that their hearts desired in Chris’ at 11825 Main, near the big flea markets beyond Clarence. Not only was there puck-style bowling and a video game, but smack in front of the bar was a pool table, which the Billiards Technician and the Chief Science Officer quickly put to the test.

          What’s more, Chris’ was easy on the budget. A bottle of Beck’s Beer could be had for a mere $1.25, with other brands correspondingly cheaper. The specialty of the house – a fruit drink called a Papaya Cooler – was $1. An order of wings went for $2.25. Until the expedition arrived, maybe half a dozen regulars hung at the bar. The big dining room was dark. A sign noted that last call came at 1:45 a.m. and closing at 2:15. The trekkers might never have taken to their transporters had it not been for an unforeseen environmental factor – the heat. No air conditioning.

          At this point, there was but one stop left in Erie County. In fact, Two Ski’s at 11986 Main in Akron is the only Main Street bar in the whole township. The proprietors, the Demblewskis and the Pasinskis, had been waiting. Posted on a ceiling beam in front of the bar was a big welcome sign.

          While the safari took over the video game and the pool table and peeked at the vacant tables on the upstairs level, the Captain ascertained that there was no further point in maintaining anonymity. Dennis Demblewski behind the bar and his sister, Pat Pasinski, in front of the bar, were incredulous at first. The Captain offered assurances. Then, just as he was about to roust everyone to the county line, Demblewski made an offer nobody could refuse – a celebratory round of drinks.

          Full of accomplishment, the expedition flew to that magic roadside marker in the middle of the countryside. The Captain broke out the provisions he’d gathered especially for this occasion – Groucho Marx noses and four bottles of champagne on ice. A toast was raised to Main Street and all its bright lights. But as the crew packed up to go, they couldn’t resist venturing on to just one more. They would have to have their last round at the first bar in Genesee County.

          It was a long time coming. Many light years passed before a sighting was made of neon beer signs all the way over in East Pembroke at a rough-and-ready place called Jim’s Saloon. It had a glorious antique back bar and equally glorious low prices, but since Genesee County closing time is 2 a.m., the safari arrived only moments before last call. The country band was packing up to leave. Barmaid Lynn McVay pulled the plug on the bowling machine.

The course back to home base was long and perilous. What’s more, all the friendly way stations on the Clarence Strip were dark. At one point, an alien cruiser appeared, closing the distance behind the expeditioners at great speed, with lights flashing. The crew slowed, edged to the side and put up deflector shields, anticipating one last adventure. The cruiser flew by, scarcely giving notice.