Barca (1510 11th Ave.) is gorgeous in a creepy sort of way, with giant wooden doors, blood-red walls, and glass-blown light fixtures that provide more aesthetic appeal than they do actual light. Victor Hugo’s Quasimodo would be pleased. The Capitol Hill bar can feel depressing on weeknights, when only a limited number of patrons sit in the high-backed booths, quietly drinking and conversing. But on weekends, it transforms into a full-scale club, with techno and funk music playing so loud you have to let out a murderous scream to be heard.Barca attracts an eclectic crowd, being within walking distance of a slew of other popular late-night destinations. The gay bar Purr is mere blocks away; hipster hangouts Linda’s and Moe Bar are also nearby. Curious drunks often wander in after gorging themselves at one of three hot-dog stands in the area. Regulars will tell you Barca’s best feature is its vodka bar on the mezzanine level, consisting of more than 100 varieties of vodka, ranging from commonly stocked brands like Absolut and Grey Goose to obscure selections from Italy, Estonia, and Ireland. Hell, they’ve got three different kinds of chocolate vodka alone. Maybe it’s because the bartenders have so much to work with that the drinks are so damn strong. Order a lemon drop at Barca and you get not a toothache-inducing cocktail that’s pretty to look at, but a potent highball that will knock you on your ass. You can always tell which patrons aren’t prepared, by the way they teeter and spill their drinks as they attempt to exit the mezzanine and take refuge in either the bathroom or back at the hot-dog stand.