Share Your Off The Wall Sink Experiences!

Did anything funny every happen to you at The Sink? Do you have any incredible Sink memories? Did you meet that 'special someone' while savoring a Sink Burger and a Beer? Was The Sink part of any other life-shaping experiences?

If so, we'd like to hear about it!

Click here to send us an e-mail and share your story with Sink fans the world over.

Please remember people of all ages read these stories. A PG-13 version is preferred. Once submitted, stories are property of The Sink. Stories are subject to minor edits (to keep them in good, clean spirit).

First Stop, Last Stop...The Sink

I've had so many fantastic nights at the sink, to recall one in particular is impossible. I lived in a house on 10th and Penn and the Sink was always the last stop on the way home and many times the first on the way out. I will never forget walking past the pizza counter, into the bar where a wave of body odor nearly floored the more sober patrons. To enter the sink anything short of blind drunk was to be spit out and sent home in disgust. Wall to wall people hammered out of their gourds having the time of their lives.

The Sink is a place where many women fell in love with me, and twice as many decided they hated me, but only until the next weekend when I saw them there again. The Sink was our stomping grounds and if we were dogs we'd have pissed all over the place, but instead we were all over the place pissed.

It was the place where everyone would be and we'd stay until close, then stumble on home where a group of 10 or more would be waiting for my roommates and I to get home to start the party. This was life for me a Boulder senior 2000. The best college town in America. Thank you The Sink.

A Sink Christmas

During Christmas break, 1960, four of us who would be transferring to CU from Pueblo Junior College traveled to Boulder to look for an apartment. We were all nineteen years old. We were staying at a friend's apartment in Boulder and our plan was to go to the Hill in the evening to check out the infamous Sink. That night we began drinking bourbon in the apartment, and two of the four, Dude (a nickname far ahead of its time) and Pardos, passed out. Gerry P and I went thru pockets until we found the car keys and even though it was snowing and we were somewhat impaired we headed for the Hill.

We parked in front of the Sink and went inside, but because it was Christmas break there was no one there except the bartender. Disappointed, we had one beer, then wandered around the Hill for a while. By now it was well after midnight. When we got into the car to leave the car was too close to the curb and we got stuck in the snow. We finally abandoned it and called a taxi. We had the address of the place where we were staying but had no idea how to get back there.

In the morning the four of us, all hung over, figured out how to get to the Sink and tromped through the foot of snow. We managed to get the car unstuck but found a parking ticket on the windshield. Outraged, we went to the police station to plead our case but were told we must pay up or go to court. It was probably a one dollar ticket but I don't remember if we paid it or not.

Will Work For Beer...

In about 1960, the Sink needed new tables. The Pi Kappa Alpha pledge class made a deal whereby they would build the tables if the Sink would throw a party when the work was finished, and furnish the beer for free.

After the tables were built, the Sink closed for a night and the Pi Kaps came in with dates. In all, there were about 70 people. During the evening, these 70 or so people consumed 176 pitchers of beer. A sign to that effect was posted and a challenge issued for any group to beat that amount.

As far as I know, the Pi Kap record was never broken.

Ode to the Sink

When I arrived at CU as a freshman in the fall of 1964, the first place my buddy and I checked out on that first night in Boulder was THE SINK. It seemed to glow and beckon on its corner on The Hill, as we emerged from the relative darkness of the walk past the Hale science building. We shared a WHOLE QUART OF COORS, gawked at the rowdy surroundings . . . the trappings of newly acquired college life . . . and, yes, the women . . . and we just knew we were at the gateway to liberation and revolution . . . man! Well, you know what the rest of the 60s was like.

I was wand'rin' 'round campus all dreary one night,
All sad and depressed as I pondered my plight,
When some jolly bastard suggested The Sink!
--And thus I have come to indulge in the drink.

As I downed one another, I thought I'd found class,
Until I discovered I'd found me no ass . . .

. . . something, something, . . .

Yes, The Sink is my home and I know it true well.
Ah, what a place for us rejects to dwell!

Summer of '58

It was a beautiful August weekend evening in 1958, the summer between freshman and sophomore years at CU. Four of us had arranged to meet at The Sink at 7:00 and then to drive to Estes Park to try to "pick up girls" at the famous/notorious Rock Inn. But one of the four was late, so we nibbled on fries, drank Cokes, and waited. And waited. And noticed, eventually, that a group of four girls, strangers to all of us, had arrived to take up residence at a booth on the other side of the room. One by one, we sauntered over to take inventory. One member of the quartet caught my eye immediately -- and then caught my ear and my attention when she proclaimed that she was from Boulder. As a Boulder High grad who thought he knew everything and everybody, I denied the claim, branding it an outright prevarication. She provided her "evidence," and we argued good-naturedly over whether former residence in Louisville plus a current apartment on 13th Street truly constituted being "from Boulder." We bought a couple of pitchers, began to pair off, and forgot all about The Rock, voicing silent gratitude to our absent friend for delaying us in Boulder. And Libby Bock and I fell in love.

As we left The Sink an hour or so later to head up the hill for some dancing at Tulagi, I watched her step out onto the sidewalk and said to myself, "That's the girl I'm going to marry." I eventually learned that she had called her mother later that same night and said, "I think I just met the guy I'm going to marry." I popped the question on Valentine's Day, and the ceremony took place, in Boulder, on August 23, 1959. A short time ago, we celebrated the 44th anniversary of what has been a wonderful marriage.

Whenever we manage to get back to Boulder, we always check to make sure that The Sink is still there and go in for a burger (still great!) and a beer. Thank you, Barney, for being late. And thank you, Sink, for being the staging area for a lifetime of pleasure and excitement with the girl of my dreams. We are both proud CU grads (classes of '60 and '61), and we consider The Sink a fond, fond memory and the foundation of our lives together.

- Gary T.
Corvallis, OR