Words & Deeds

Seeing COVID rules ‘imploding,’ a Boise bar closed early. 8th Street was ‘surreal.’

Ryan Andrews wasn’t sure how amped Boiseans would be to return to bars last Saturday.

He found out the hard way at around 1:30 a.m.

A line had formed outside Karma and 8th Street Social Club, 800 W. Idaho St. — almost to the end of the block. More concerning for Andrews, Karma’s operating partner, were the customers waiting on the stairwell leading up to the second-floor dance club. The term “social distancing” did not appear to be in these buzzed bargoers’ vocabularies.

The situation was “imploding,” he says. “People were not following our requests. ... If you’re going to stand on the stairs next to a complete stranger that is inches away from your face with no mask?”

Andrews made a judgment call: Karma closed its doors a half-hour early. Everyone inside the club was allowed to stay. Everyone waiting on the stairs had to leave.

I’m no fortune teller, but I’d expect similarly tough decisions from responsible bar operators in the coming weeks.

If anything, 8th Street might be busier this weekend. (Although cool, rainy weather could hamper crowds.) On Thursday, Mayor Lauren McLean announced that the popular entertainment corridor has closed to vehicles, allowing bars and restaurants to expand their patios into the street.

Overall, Andrews says, things went reasonably well inside Karma. Especially since it was the first night that bars were allowed to reopen as part of Stage 3 of the Idaho Rebounds plan. Karma’s bartenders and cocktail waitresses wore masks. Sanitizer flowed. Tables were placed on the dance floor to prevent dancing. If a patron tried to move a table, it promptly got scooted back. There was no DJ.

Masked security staff used clickers at the top and bottom of the stairs to strictly enforce a half-capacity limit.

When that stairway free-for-all ensued, Andrews simply pulled the plug.

“We had some opposition there,” he admits. “There were a lot of people in line. I’m sure they were frustrated. I tried to handle it as delicately as possible, being ... sympathetic to the fact that they had been waiting there a while. But again, this isn’t about their good time, it’s about safety.”

‘An eye-opening experience’ in downtown Boise

After being mostly empty for more than two months, downtown streets were “a little surreal,” Andrews says. “I was definitely surprised to see that amount of people that were out on a Saturday night, given that the week prior, we were still kind of in shut mode, right? The clock struck midnight and people were out of their doors.

“I think that was an eye-opening experience for me, for sure. People weren’t following social distancing. People were not wearing masks. People were outside of their immediate groups. There were a lot of people.”

Kristi March, manager of the Balcony Club, 150 N. 8th St., could only gaze in wonder as she left around midnight. “I don’t know what the word is to use,” she says. “It was ‘interesting,’ I guess. It looked just like a normal Saturday night down 8th. Like in front of Karma and The Mode. Where people gather. In front of Pie Hole.”

The Balcony took coronavirus precautions to another level. The 448-capacity dance club set a limit of 50. At the door, a poster-size list of rules greeted customers, who were required to have their temperature taken before entering.

Inside, bargoers were asked to pick a table and stick to it. There would be no dancing. No standing next to the bartop. Or the dance floor railing. One person at a time was allowed in the bathroom — sanitized by an employee after each use.

Perhaps most mind-blowing to thirsty party animals? The Balcony had a four-drink limit.

These policies were not always popular. Groups would come in, realize the dance club wasn’t actually offering dancing, and then exit, March says. “It’s a little disheartening ... when you’re trying really hard to do the right thing and people maybe just don’t appreciate it.”

Open daily, The Balcony will struggle inherently because of its slashed capacity. But losing a few more customers by going the extra mile hasn’t all been negative, March emphasizes. “We have had our regulars come in, and it’s been great,” she says. “They’ve been super-appreciative of what we’re doing.”

“None of us are having fun,” she adds. “All of us want to return and see our regulars and see new faces and dance. We really love our jobs here. We’re really trying our best on our part to avoid a second shutdown.

“We can do our part, enjoy it the best we can, and have a good conscience about it.”

‘Up to the people to do the right thing’

Whether Idaho bars face challenges from their customers is going to depend largely on the specific environment and clientele.

Outdoor hangout the Yardarm, nestled near the Boise River and Greenbelt in Garden City, was full from the moment it opened at noon Saturday, co-owner Guy Midnight says — at a reduced capacity, of course.

He was “stressed out” about reopening with social distancing rules. “I didn’t sign up to be a hostess,” he grumbles good-naturedly.

But people were “super-cool” about the rules — inside and outside, he says. So were diners abiding by a three-customer-only line in front of the food truck.

“It’s been really amazing how people have been about it,” Midnight says.

He feels fortunate not to be enforcing pandemic guidelines at a downtown Boise bar.

“I honestly feel bad for those owners,” Midnight says. “If they’re trying to do the right thing, there’s (still) really no way. It’s really up to the people to do the right thing.”

Bittercreek Alehouse, which reopened Monday at 246 N. 8th St., normally attracts a respectful clientele. The bar and restaurant has gotten a great response to coronavirus changes, brand manager David Roberts says — including the seated, cardboard “Temporary Diners,” created by Boise artist Kelly Knopp.

“But then we’ve also had instances,” Roberts says, “where someone’s making fun of our staff’s mask, asking if they could wear it.”

These next few months ain’t gonna be easy.

What’s worse is that bar owners making a huge effort know that others inevitably will not.

“As much as I would like to see the solidarity of everyone coming together and really being on board,” Andrews says, “I think there’s definitely some of us taking it more seriously than others.”

If you work downtown, all you’ll have to do is look out the window on a weekend night. At the folks parked on bicycles talking close to each other. At pedal-powered passenger carts of beer-drinking, mask-free party people yelling “Wooo!” — like last Saturday.

“There is some frustration when you see that,” March admits. “No way are they 6 feet apart.”

Ultimately, all you can do is your best, Andrews says.

“I think one of our favorites is ‘control the controllables,’ ” he says. “We can control everything inside of our space and inside of our club and on our stairs. But what’s happening out there is just not anything that we can, really.”

This story was originally published June 5, 2020 at 6:00 AM.

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