Beijing Boyce

John Bull Pub has officially closed and will reopen as Tim’s Texas BBQ in late October. Sequoia Cafe next door remains open. / The show is over for Icehouse’s live blues experiment. The Wangfujing bar brought in Chicago musicians but not enough Beijing patrons and will soon split duties as home to the Courtyard Gallery and host of Chopschticks comedy nights, Beijing Cheese Society gatherings, wine tastings and weekend bands. / Speaking of double duty, Phil of Phil’s Pub not only owns a Beijing bar, but also manages Q Bar in Qingdao’s Shangri-La Hotel. Pay him a visit if you travel to our beer-loving sister city to the south. / Last Saturday night, 1:30 AM, Rui Fu: empty. I don’t mean just a few patrons, I mean zero. Last Saturday night, 1:45 AM, Maggie’s: busy. What does it mean? / Pipes (plural), known as a retreat for women who love women, now goes by Pipe (singular). If the new sign is any indication, Coors (singular or plural?) is the sponsor. My only visit to Pipe(s) was with M-Dawg last year and lasted an awkward ten minutes. / I visited The Press Club in the St. Regis Hotel twice this past month and found the staff pleasant and the cocktails above average - they should be at 70 kuai per martini. / Smallville, Shunyi’s newest spot, will open on October 21 with free cinnamon rolls, a silent auction of comic book posters, and the Instant Noodles jazz band (8046-5448; beside Yard Restaurant). This spot also boasts butter tarts, my kryptonite of foods, that substance to which I have no resistance. Midnight drew major cocktail-loving crowds before the management and bartenders fell out earlier this year. The bar is virtually empty these days, but hope springs eternal and a “pure-hearted invitation” posted in the window seeks a foreigner with bar experience and contacts with local social groups. / Over the last few successive issues, I have written about how my all-time favorite Beijing bar First Cafe went from closing to being chai’d to being site of a garden. The latest: The garden is gone and replaced by a pile of dirt fronted by a three-meter high fence. Is nothing sacred?