JOHNSON: 'No hanky panky' on beds at Sugar Room, owner says

By Bill Johnson, Rocky Mountain News (Contact)

Saturday, August 11, 2007

The first thing you notice when you walk in are the beds. They are right there.

Just to the left of the still-unfinished bar, maybe 20 feet inside the front door, are two king-sized beds, both outfitted with large, quilted red leather head and footboards.

Walk through the adjacent double doors and into the dance room - disco ball hanging over the maple floor - and there are two more king-sized beds, elegant four-poster behemoths.

Scottie Ewing insists his now-controversial Sugar Room at Alameda Avenue and Pecos Street will not be a haven for swingers. And you want to believe him.

Still, I'm seeing beds.

It was with some amusement, though, that I walked into the Sugar Room, the phones there still ringing in the aftermath of this week's hubbub over the city granting the joint a liquor license.

If a swing club is what the Sugar Room is, I figured, so what? If no one is getting killed or otherwise harmed, if no kids are being let in, why should anyone care?

Rich Ewing, Scottie's 38-year-old older brother, was interviewing a prospective waiter when I walked in. He motioned to me to have a seat.

The Sugar Room isn't exactly my cup of architectural or interior design tea. The place is dark, done up in cinnamon and darker reds, with plenty of mirrors, wide brown and white light fixtures, overstuffed leather sofas and, of course, beds. Workers were putting the final touches on the maple and glass casework behind a long granite main bar.

Scottie Ewing had clearly dumped a lot of money into the place, a former upholstery shop. He and Rich, who moved from San Diego a year ago, gutted it and pretty much started from scratch.

Rich Ewing, done with his interview, rolls his eyes over the entire swingers controversy. Scottie, he said, was off running errands, and was up to here with media requests.

All of it, he said, is a function of media hype and his brother's past. For years, he ran both private events for different groups and after-hours clubs in and around Denver.

Some of his clientele, Rich Ewing said, are swingers.

"One night, a group of well-dressed, older business- type people showed up at one of his clubs. They happened to be swingers."

And they remain a clientele of Scottie's, he said. Sure, the Sugar Room will be a place for them to socialize, one night a week at the most, "no hanky panky allowed.

"We can't allow that, no different than any other license holder in this town," he said, Frank Sinatra crooning softly from the ceiling speakers. "This will be an upscale, classy lounge and nightclub."

He offers a tour. I immediately ask about the beds. He sits on one and I plop down on the other.

"Instead of a bed, I see these as a big couch. They're meant for lounging and cocktailing," Rich Ewing says before standing up and pulling back the sheets on his bed. "Tempur-Pedic," he says proudly.

He gets it, he says: The beds and Scottie's past. Eyebrows get raised.

"It's no different than if he turned this into a gay bar once a night. If you've ever been in one, you would know you don't see people in there having sex. They're cocktailing and having fun. What they do afterwards is their business. But they don't do it there. Same thing applies here."

The scars of the Ewing brothers' licensing fight are quite evident on the second floor. The walls surrounding a huge heating and air conditioning unit in one room have been stripped away. Their original building plan did not include the walls. The brothers didn't know the unit would be placed there when their architect initially drew up the plans.

Drywall has been stripped from other walls, and new walls rise at odd angles.

City officials this week insisted Scottie Ewing's swingers past played no role in the long licensing battle. Rich Ewing isn't so certain.

"We went through hell with the city," he said. "And the media grabbed the swingers thing and ran wild with it," he said.

"The city, no question, was dragging its feet, I believe for personal, moral reasons. There are people who don't want us to open, and they did the best they could to keep it from happening. They failed."

The planned grand opening is Aug. 25.

He extends an invitation, saying I should try his new martini creations. Rich Ewing notices my raised eyebrow, remembers my astonishment over the beds.

"Dude," he says, half-flabbergasted, "they're for lounging!

"Look, we've been working on this for over a year, spent I don't know how much money. Why would we jeopardize that? There is probably going to be more scrutiny here than at any club in the history of this city.

"There won't be crowds of people lying around here, you know, getting it on."

I started laughing.

It was, in all my years of doing this, the strangest, most hilarious pitch I had ever received from anyone about to start a new business.

johnsonw@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-954-2763