Rockin' The Albert

I remember when I had just turned 18.

I – along with a number of friends from high school – wanted to get out, explore the city, and immerse myself in the bar and pub scene. At that time, nightlife was a dangerous, exciting, cool world that I hadn’t yet explored.

Naturally, we began our quest for intrigue at the various Canad Inns bars around town. For any non-Manitoban readers, they are pretty much the equivalent of Chuckie Cheese for adults. No real drama there.

After we realized that visiting places like Tijuana’s and the Rum Jungle were nothing to write home about, we branched out. And the first downtown Winnipeg bar that I explored was The Albert.

I remember this experience fondly because it was brief, terrifying, and frustrating. I went with my best friend Ang and a few male co-workers. We parked on a side street, walked in together, and found a small, vacant table in the back near the pool table. We ordered beer – because, at that time, Ang and I didn’t know the names of any cocktails – and waited for something to happen. A local band played a set, and some guys got into a fight. That was pretty much the extent of the excitement, and we decided to leave.

Outside, it had started to rain. I pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of my purse, and immediately, I was surrounded. Bar patrons, homeless individuals, and the bouncer himself were first asking and then demanding for a smoke out of my quickly diminished supply. I initially gave a few away, and then looked at my friend Chris for some type of support.

He picked up on my frustration, and motioned for Ang and me to start walking away. We tried, but I was cut off by a rather voluptuous woman who was thoroughly offended that I refused to give her a cigarette. As I was trying to reason with her, I heard Chris shout “run” behind me.

Ang and I didn’t need any further prodding. We tore down the street like two chickens with their heads cut off and left our knights in shining armour behind to deal with the aftermath.

This was my first experience with a downtown Winnipeg bar, and also my first encounter with The Albert. I can honestly say that I was scarred enough to not return to this particular dive until last Saturday.

Jeff heard from a few friends that The Albert hosts an open mic night every Saturday afternoon. There is a house band that performs, and a few musicians on standby, but anyone is welcome to show up and hop on the stage. We wanted to see firsthand what type of people show up to this event, and were pleasantly surprised.

The bar hadn’t changed at all since I was last there. The toilets in the ladies restroom are still chained to the wall, and the mirror is still cloudy and slightly broken in spots. It’s quite possible that I sat on the exact same chair as the one I occupied six years ago. I remember the weird, 30 degree tilt on one of the legs. The pool table is still located in the far corner, and save a few slat screen televisions mounted around the room, the decor is untouched.

The only difference was the fact that a variety of people were getting up on the stage, and singing/playing their guts out with a humble ferocity that was truly inspiring to see. I was at The Albert for two hours, and in that time I saw a number of people with truly inspiring talent. A member of our little group got up and played a number of songs on his gorgeous Gibson guitar, making me desperately wish that I would have brought my electric piano.

I forgot to mention that it’s also Happy Hour during this time, and the fact that Moosehead was only $3.25 a bottle helped my mood. Jeff and I both agreed that we want to perform on that stage, and we will return very soon to get another taste of this experience.

It’s funny how one day you can hate a place, and the next day you can love it. My eyes were opened, and I realize now that it’s not right to hold grudges just because I had a few people bug me for cigarettes on a stormy night six years ago. I’m going back to The Albert, I’m getting onstage, and I’m making music with anyone who wants to play along.