Localized warming saves Shooters from icy embrace

Bill Blade, Contributor, Jakarta

Oh dear, oh dear, we do seem to have become unduly preoccupied with wine bars and their ilk of late and, sorry to say, this week is no exception.

I refuse to accept any liability for this, however, as myself and the sidekick were most treacherously led astray by what can only be described as misleading advertising of the most insidious type -- yes, nothing less than passing off a would-be wine bar as a sports bar. Well now, that's something you don't come across every day, is it?

I'm referring here to Shooters, located at Jl. Kemang Raya 87 (Tel. 7198969). Newly opened in January, this is an establishment that's as plush and as posh as you're likely to find anywhere in the big smoke, but which, for some unfathomable reason, likes to dress itself up as something akin to a pool hall.

Now, I've nothing against cross-dressing in principle (although I've rarely indulged in it myself of late), and I've frequently heard of places trying to "tart" themselves up, but when a place starts trying to "tart" itself down you begin to wonder if it's not a couple of balls short of a rack, especially when you consider that nobody in their right mind is going to be in the least bit taken in, given the assorted BMWs, Mercs and large, tank-like vehicles holding the fort out front.

But despite the attempt to dress a sheep up in wolf's clothing, Shooters, as it turned out, has a whole lot going for it.

Provided, that is, you can tolerate all the beautiful young things in their skin-tight lycra yakking away most of the evening on their top-of-the-range Nokia cellphones.

OK, OK, I admit I'm exaggerating somewhat here, but the fact remains that Shooters is full to the gunnels with very, very beautiful people, and is, despite all the ranting and raving above, a rather impressive joint all round.

Hours: 11 a.m. to 1 a.m. Sundays to Fridays, with an extra hour added on for Saturdays.

What's it got: Just about everything to keep your heart content in the booze stakes. There's also a newly opened wine cellar that's well worth checking out. And to keep the munchies at bay, let's not forget the rather attractive little dining area (populated by large flocks of seemingly lovey-dovey couples on the Saturday night of our visit).

Bill, please: Local draft for Rp 20,000, Heineken, Corona, Budweiser, Foster's for Rp 43,000 and JW Black or Chivas Regal for Rp 45,000 (don't forget the tax and an 8 percent service charge). No happy hour as yet, but profuse promises that it's only a matter of time.

Here's lookin' at you: If you didn't know any better (and apart from the posh cars), from the sign outside you would bet ten-to-a-penny Shooters was going be another smoky dive full of bearded, beer-bellied bozos with nothing better to do than shoot eight-ball all night long.

And true enough, when you enter Shooters you are confronted by a couple of pool tables set up like modern-day idols on low pedestals. But there the similarity with any species of sports bar that I know off comes to an abrupt end.

For Shooters has a vestibule manned by very, very polite people, who are presumably there to head off any such beery bozos. And as for the pool tables, well, you could eat your dinner of them if you were that way inclined. Smoke? Not a whiff of it (they must have some mean extraction system). And sweaty? Forget it!

What you get, in fact, is a white-tiled space which at first sight brings to mind an icebox (now I know what the cat that got stuck in the fridge felt like), interspersed with such things as a grand piano, the sanitized and antiseptic pool tables, of course, and lots of extremely comfy-looking sofas and easy chairs.

Over to your right as you walk down the catwalk is a pleasant- looking bar, to which I found myself being drawn irresistibly as if by a large, invisible hand.

Or perhaps it was all just a ruse to avoid squirming under the critical gaze of the luscious lovelies, something that would have happened, or so we thought, had we proceeded any further into the lionesses' den.

A pianist was tinkling and crooning away in a not unpleasant fashion when we arrived, but by 10 p.m. things were beginning to warm up in the fridge (undoubtedly helped by the glaring white lights being turned down).

The onset of this thawing of the ice pack was heralded by a rather large lady emerging from somewhere in the lionesses' den and promptly getting stuck into the vocals, Ella Fitzgerald- style. Talk about it not being "over 'til the Fat Lady sings". Give this girl a recording contract is all I can say!

Whether it was the booze or the demonic diva, I'll never know. But whatever the case, as the evening wore on the lionesses' den turned out not to be as intimidating as at first believed. In fact, said luscious lovelies turned out to be, hic, made of flesh and blood after all, just like you and me.

Verdict: They do say that it's the contents of the bottle that count rather than the label. Well, Shooters is as good a case in point as any you're likely to find. Don't go there for a game of pool or to watch the soccer, but if a cool and trendy hangout is what you're after, you could do a lot worse. Especially after the lights go down and South Jakarta's very own localized version of global warming kicks into gear.