Not that I've spotted any current Seattle Weekly staff members at the Eagle Tavern's Underwear Party. But the skivvy party that takes place most Saturdays at this venerable dive brings in prides of lust-drunk gay men, and people I know who work at other companies have had to squeeze past some guy from IT wearing a dirty jock—or even trickier, not wearing one. The proper response, of course, is a wry smile and a nod, which is the cruising gay man's equivalent of a handshake agreement to never speak of this to anyone at the office. Even if you're not into big-screen bear porn, union suits, or backroom action, the Eagle's anti-tweaker, cologne-free vibe makes it a good place to suck down a couple of pints. Just be prepared for the consequences.—Jonathan Kauffman 314 E. Pike St., 621-7591.