I Was Born Into Self-Actualization

Summertime arrived this week and it brought back the return of Thursday-night EBONY bar hopping. Recent weekend outings have seemed quite like a chore when it comes to crossing bars off the list, our Thursday evening reminded us of the reason we started this journey in the first place -- tossing back a few with our good friends and broadening horizons in the process.

Dinner was at Estrella Negra on Fullerton (definitely outside the radius). The food is great, the decor is terrific, the prices are reasonable (especially after they got rid of the $5 corking fee), the music selection was stellar, the service friendly. My one complaint? We could've ordered 5 more entrees and still ended up hungry. Four six-packs were downed by the collection of Broseph, Chuckles, Selfy, Rick and myself.
Joe gave us a quick rundown of the obstacles in his upcoming event, Warrior Dash, and it sounds positively insane. Good work, Red Frog Events Crew.

Thanks to the mercury rising, we decided to visit what is probably (shhhh!!!) THE BEST BEER GARDEN IN CHICAGO. Cody's (#95), is a neighborhood bar tucked away in the SW direction of Belmont and Ashland. Swinging saloon doors, laid back and unpretentious atmosphere, pool tables, a quality jukebox, characters drinking at the bar. At Cody's you no longer feel like you're in the city, you seem to be transported to the party at that one friend's house who lives just beyond where the suburbs turn into the wooded country. He has outdoor darts, a giant grill, horseshoes, bags, and the kind of weather-worn furniture you get from never taking things inside. The people he invited over that you don't yet know could wind up being your friends for life, or they could give you stories you'll never forget. All thats missing is a bonfire, and you think you could sit here in the warm weather all night drinking cold beers, looking at the stars, and laughing with your friends. Only you're in the city, there are no stars, and the frequent sirens flying down Belmont or Ashland continually disrupt your peace. Selfy and Joe narrowly (well...maybe soundly) defeated Rick and I at darts. Adam showed up since he now lives 30 seconds away from here.

So enough with my love letter to Cody's. Joe had never been to The Pony Inn, and we have continually talked this place up for it's preponderance of very attractive women. The 4 of us (leaving Adam at Cody's...) walk into TPI, and apparently the secret is out. There are 3 females here, and two of them are employees. The rest of the bar, like the other 30 people, obviously have heard the same things about this place. So we left before ordering anything. Kick, Push, Kick, Push, Kick, Push, Coast...

The plan was to walk down to The Lincoln Tap Room, but we notice Grand River, #96, before we get there. Grand River was completely empty save for our lovely waitress and the guy we assumed she was with at the end of the bar. After serving us our drinks, tolerating our stories about why we're at the Grand River -- and paying more attention to us than she needed to -- she takes off for the night. The guy at the end of the was her boss, presumably that's the extent of their relationship. Nothing much else to report from here. Grand River would probably be a good place to hang out with friends and feel like you have the place to yourself even when there's a crowd around.

Next up, my second trip there in a month, but first for an official EBONY event, The Lincoln Tap Room, #97. I came here last month with my brother and his friend Ricky prior to catching Dent May at Schubas. During that visit I put some cash into the jukebox and our talkative bartender vetoed my last choice, the YYY's "Honeybear". F that. He did at least pour us a shot of Powers Whiskey, which is pretty damn good. This time around the jukebox wouldn't even accept my money. Our bartender on the second visit was playing his ipod, and he offered to take requests due to the Jukebox FAIL. He didn't have anything I was looking to hear, we settled on Iggy Pop. We talked to him about the blog, he thought it was pretty awesome and wished us luck in our journey. The Lincoln Tap Room is a roomy place, and I had previously thought about making it the last place for EBONY to visit this year because it'd be good for a huge party to wrap things up. Guess we'll find somewhere else since we've now crossed it off the list.
At this point Joe and Jason took off in favor of sleep, and Rick and I started our usual drunken Thursday night decision making of "ok, which gay bar should we go cross of the list?"
Berlin was the second of two places we would visit for less than 30 seconds on this night. Entering the darkened front door we were confronted with a cover charge of $10. Exiting the darkened front door we declined to pay a cover charge of $10.

Which meant our fourth and final stop of the night would be the 930 Lounge, #98. The 930 Lounge is really just part of the Clarke's on Belmont, it's the half of it that has a bar. We've been here several times prior this year, but not for the purpose of drinking. Clarke's serves both breakfast and lunch. After many of our Saturday morning OMTC long runs we are in disagreement about whether it's time for lunch (kyle) or breakfast (rick). Clarke's is the answer. There's really nothing else to write about our trip there this evening, The 930 was pretty uneventful.

A recommendation --
Following the vein of AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com, FML.com, textsfromlastnight.com, etc, we bring you two more time wasters from the wonderful place called the internets:
Emails From An Asshole
My Life Is Average

Early Adapters (those of you who may be reading this as soon as I've published it), we'll probably start off this evening's bar-hopping at Cooper's on Belmont. They have an outdoor patio.

Keep your heart, 3 stacks, keep your heart