Saturday Night we decided to not make the mistake of even heading towards Wrigleyville. We were en route to start our night off at our regular spot, Hi Tops, when something caught my eye. A Shuffleboard table.
The Bar was called the Spread, perhaps dubbed so in reference to the "What Are The Odds" board placed above the rear bathrooms, or perhaps in reference to what the typical Lincoln Park Hunnies lurking this bar did after a night of O Bombs.....
Honestly we would have never even given this bar the time of day had it not been for the Shuffleboard Table. Nor would we have stayed for more than 20 minutes had the table not been free. The bar remained empty from about 10pm til midnight. Throughout that time we ordered an excessive number of $10 pitchers, so the environment got seemingly better as the night progressed.
We had a very sweet waitress who periodically brought us free pitchers. When the first one came and she informed us it was "On the House," I couldn't help but ask "Why?"
"Because I like you guys" she exclaimed
"Why?" I giggled as I looked at my buddy Monium who had spill stains on his shirt from chugging his glass to make room for the free booze... Perhaps that image made my question retorical.
Certainly in any bar review there is error and bias because, as we know, any bar review is written by a human. Therefore, I will err to the side of recommending this bar as the free pitchers definitely impacted my opinoin. Infact, i was so persuaded by the free booze, I will excuse the bar for charging $8 for O Bombs and calling it a special... For the record, I think I'd rather spend $8 to have Milton Bradley piss in my mouth than spend $8 to drink a watered down O Bomb.
Free booze also allows me to overlook the horrible experience of finding out the hottest girl in the bar was dating the biggest homosexual in the bar. As we know, brains and beauty is a tough combination to find. This lady was obviously too hot to realize her 'boyfriend' was wearing tight pants, and a vest with a hood. As if the outfit wasn't enough to indicate he swallows, the fact he was doing " The Sprinkler" on the dancefloor should have been. And I'm still wondering if he wore the hair barrette from the moment he went out, or if he borrowed it from his ridiculously hot girlfriend as the night progressed. In a moment of such confusion and/or disgust, I could only think of Jimmy Pop-Ali, of the Bloodhound Gang, who once sang "Chicks dig guys who don't dig chicks." Jimmy had obviously been in Chicago when these lyrics came to him....
Another aspect of the bar that always enduces a stellar bar review (besides free booze) is chicks dancing on the bar. My night (and the night of many around us) had to have been complete when 2 girls were pouring Bacardi down each others throats on the back bar. The bartender (the smart man he is) allowed them to consume enough free booze that they commenced make-out without realizing 50 strange men were watching (and 1 man in a vest with a hood was not).
It was at this point Bobby G and I looked at each other and immediately began chanting "Lick her Cl*t, Lick her Cl*t." Within moments, the herd of hornified males (sans vest-boy) rallied in the chanting. But Alas, to no avail, the lushes stepped down from the bar, leopard print and all...
By about 1 am we were nice and liquored up and ready to venture out into the night. Though I had a good time, I cannot promise I would ever return to The Spread. Again, $8 O Bombs being called a special, is, well.... Special....
Overall, The Spread gets 22 to 1 Odds that I would return, while the chick who was dating the guy in the vest with the hood gets 2 to 1 odds of lying in bed crying, ashamed her 'boyfriend' left her for a man named Bruce.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Put your Faith 'n Whiskey
Saturday night my friends made the terrible mistake of attending Wrigleyville's Red Ivy. I had advised against this plan from the first mention of the brutal bar, but was struck down. After a $12 cab ride we had to wait in line for about 10 minutes. To think anyone would wait in line for ANY bar in Wrigleyville completely blows my mind, but for RED IVY, you have to be kidding me?
When we got to the door, the utterly unfriendly bouncer informed one man in our group he could not wear his hat into the bar because it was apparently interpretted to not be classy enough for this fine establishment. Walking in to see a MAN, yes a MAN with frosted tips and white sunglasses on his head made us wonder just how much sense of class this bouncer had....
After standing in line and being bumped into by barbacks and others of the 15 bouncers for a good 10 minutes, we finally were able to order luke warm $5 Miller High Lifes... At this time I was hoping the large black man from the commercials would stroll in and remove each beer from bar, because Red Ivy certainly did not deserve to live the high life...
We finally found a table all the way back in the corner, right near an obnoxiously loud speaker and were forced to watch (and feel) the herd of 200 pound females flailing their arms about the stage and shaking their rumps like a free cheeseburger was on the line. This unattractive display of nastiness did not deter the many Ed Hardly's who were in attendence from rubbing their white belts all over the 38" female waists infront of them. For a moment the amount of beastiality going on infront of me made me forget i was in an Urban setting.
To my surprise, after about 25 minutes of feeling I was in heffer hell, a group of attractive women walked in. Of course they probably would have been much more attractive if their skin wasnt orange and they weren't wearing Bump-its. I was only knocked into about 4 times as the Ed Hardly's shifted their hair-gel and chains from the deuce and/or deuce-n-a-quarters on the dance floor to the new flock of skanks walking in. At this point, it was time to go....
We decided we needed to find somewhere that would be the exact opposite of the utter piss we had just encountered and headed down to Faith and Whiskey. As we rolled up to the door, we were pleasantly greated by a bouncer who was cracking jokes and asking us how our night was. As my friend walked in, with his hat placed back on his head where it belonged, the bouncer complimented it. We informed him of our encounter at Red Ivy and he questioned why we would ever go there in the first place. Your guess is as good as mine, my man.
As we walked in the door it was so refreshing to not hear Lady GaGa bumping with awful screeching noises being mixed in by a so called DJ who had his I-pod and a headphone on 1 ear. We immediately noticed the custom decor complete with classic, black motorcycles over the bathrooms and a signature mural on the back, exposed brick wall. And nothing said ROCK like the complete collection of Electric Guitars popping off the calming blue walls. All this excitement before I even ordered a drink?
Being a man who respects his whiskey, I decided I would put the name to the test. I believe I tried about 7 types of whiskey throughout the night and I didnt even make it 1/3 of the way through the choices. At this point I was pulled away from the bar by the bridal party who was there to rock out one last time with the single lady at the helm. I cant even begin to tell you how nice it was to see a Chicago bride-to-be not decked out in pink penises being chased around by a crew of overweight redheads all harassing me for condoms, boxer shorts and other obnoxious items on some childish list. Instead, these ladies were there to DRINK.
The party raged on until 3 in the morning, and I will spare you the wonderful details of all that happened in between, but highly encourage you to see for yourself. I recommend Thursday Nights for Karaoke to a live band. Fridays offer free food for 'happy hour' and Sunday is table side keg service for $20. The only complaint I can come up with is there are NO other bars on that side of town, but honestly, you wont need one.
Faith and Whiskey gets an A+ in my book while Red Ivy comes in with a big fat F.... mostly because if I stayed any longer there was a good chance something more than the Ivy could have turned red....
When we got to the door, the utterly unfriendly bouncer informed one man in our group he could not wear his hat into the bar because it was apparently interpretted to not be classy enough for this fine establishment. Walking in to see a MAN, yes a MAN with frosted tips and white sunglasses on his head made us wonder just how much sense of class this bouncer had....
After standing in line and being bumped into by barbacks and others of the 15 bouncers for a good 10 minutes, we finally were able to order luke warm $5 Miller High Lifes... At this time I was hoping the large black man from the commercials would stroll in and remove each beer from bar, because Red Ivy certainly did not deserve to live the high life...
We finally found a table all the way back in the corner, right near an obnoxiously loud speaker and were forced to watch (and feel) the herd of 200 pound females flailing their arms about the stage and shaking their rumps like a free cheeseburger was on the line. This unattractive display of nastiness did not deter the many Ed Hardly's who were in attendence from rubbing their white belts all over the 38" female waists infront of them. For a moment the amount of beastiality going on infront of me made me forget i was in an Urban setting.
To my surprise, after about 25 minutes of feeling I was in heffer hell, a group of attractive women walked in. Of course they probably would have been much more attractive if their skin wasnt orange and they weren't wearing Bump-its. I was only knocked into about 4 times as the Ed Hardly's shifted their hair-gel and chains from the deuce and/or deuce-n-a-quarters on the dance floor to the new flock of skanks walking in. At this point, it was time to go....
We decided we needed to find somewhere that would be the exact opposite of the utter piss we had just encountered and headed down to Faith and Whiskey. As we rolled up to the door, we were pleasantly greated by a bouncer who was cracking jokes and asking us how our night was. As my friend walked in, with his hat placed back on his head where it belonged, the bouncer complimented it. We informed him of our encounter at Red Ivy and he questioned why we would ever go there in the first place. Your guess is as good as mine, my man.
As we walked in the door it was so refreshing to not hear Lady GaGa bumping with awful screeching noises being mixed in by a so called DJ who had his I-pod and a headphone on 1 ear. We immediately noticed the custom decor complete with classic, black motorcycles over the bathrooms and a signature mural on the back, exposed brick wall. And nothing said ROCK like the complete collection of Electric Guitars popping off the calming blue walls. All this excitement before I even ordered a drink?
Being a man who respects his whiskey, I decided I would put the name to the test. I believe I tried about 7 types of whiskey throughout the night and I didnt even make it 1/3 of the way through the choices. At this point I was pulled away from the bar by the bridal party who was there to rock out one last time with the single lady at the helm. I cant even begin to tell you how nice it was to see a Chicago bride-to-be not decked out in pink penises being chased around by a crew of overweight redheads all harassing me for condoms, boxer shorts and other obnoxious items on some childish list. Instead, these ladies were there to DRINK.
The party raged on until 3 in the morning, and I will spare you the wonderful details of all that happened in between, but highly encourage you to see for yourself. I recommend Thursday Nights for Karaoke to a live band. Fridays offer free food for 'happy hour' and Sunday is table side keg service for $20. The only complaint I can come up with is there are NO other bars on that side of town, but honestly, you wont need one.
Faith and Whiskey gets an A+ in my book while Red Ivy comes in with a big fat F.... mostly because if I stayed any longer there was a good chance something more than the Ivy could have turned red....
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