EverynightisFridaynightat“PoLoCo”onChandler’sWharf,where patrons(humanandcanine)cometoenjoylobsterandlivemusic. 38 p o r t l a n d monthly magazine Portland after dark into the elevator. At the top, a walkway stretches between solar panels to reach a wide deck. The rooftop space is bordered by long benches on one side and on the other, a 1962 Airstream, partially sunken into the decking, that does duty as a taco truck. The scene whisks you to another dimension. Out of sight of Maine’s rec- ognizable waterfront, with the sunlight glancing off the Intermed high-rise, pot- ted palm plants, and crisscrossing string lights, you might have stepped through a portal to downtown LA. The bar staff, all with aviators and bright, white smiles, could be Hollywood hopefuls. The stiff, salty breeze is the only reminder that we’re still in Vacationland. W e order cans of beer and con- gregate around an old whiskey barrel-table. Be- side us, as the taco truck shifts into high gear with rapid service, three bur- ly guys somehow prepare plates of ex- otic-sounding cactus tacos from the confines of the aluminum trailer. The rooftop bar has a capacity of 200, and the space is soon teeming. Dresses and long hair stream in the wind. A large portion of the crowd seems mostly in- tent on capturing the scene on their iPhones. The seemingly foreign sur- roundings and blazing sunset have us all in giddy high spirits. As the night lengthens, we reluc- tantly come back down to earth and me- ander our way back to the familiar buzz of Monument Square. It’s fun to step out of Portland for a night, but it feels even better to get back. Hit the Deck The lucky bonus of patios? They frequent- ly allow canine companions. Good news if you’re a dog owner. Great news if you des- perately want a dog but can’t keep one. The sprawling patio/garden behind Silly’s, be- low, has plenty of space for patrons and their pups. We go at dusk and take a seat on the lowest of the three-tiered patio next to a family of harried-looking parents who are more than happy to let us fuss over their golden labrador as they attempt to corral three children. “I remember when that little deck was Silly’s only outdoor space,” says my boy- friend, pointing to a tiny purple patio above the large garden area. Nowadays it’s over 1,000 square feet of decking and gravel patio. True to the colorful, maximalist aes- thetic of Silly’s, the outdoor area is over- grown, with vines tumbling over the per- golas and assorted floral ornaments. As with everything at this establishment– decor, menu choices, serving sizes–more is more. We stick to drinks–a couple of beers served in the kind of dented tin cups you’d expect to see camping–and spend an hour sipping beer and people/ dog-watching as the sky deepens to night. Hidden in Plain Sight When you think of Commercial Street’s longtime players, J’s Oyster or Three Dol- lar Deweys surely come to mind. But what about Dry Dock Tavern? It’s been part of the Commercial Street landscape for over 30 years, and yet it seems to slide be- neath the radar. I’d only ever visited once at the behest of some relatives visiting from abroad. We’re sitting on the Dry Dock pa- tio! they texted. Where? I replied, disgrun- tled not to be the one choosing our desti- nation. My sulk faded once I’d climbed the two flights of stairs and emerged onto the upper balcony to see the view over Custom House Wharf. Hey, good enough for Carole King,