Breakin' Rocks in the Hot Sun...

Why does it seem like lately all of my posts begin with an apology for our tardiness?

Today is Monday, 12/7, and this post recaps the events of the night of Thursday, 11/12. Yikes. Best to get on with the postin’…

Our evening begins at The Gaslight (#155), where we are joined by my younger brother as well as Internet Celebrity Baumer. Why Baumer even showed up is beyond me, as he was 9 days away from running his first marathon. Rick and I start off with a couple of 3 Floyds’ Robert The Bruce, Grant orders the New Belgium Fall Wild Ale. The Gaslight is a good bar, they’ve got a great food menu, and the place is often crowded. Our waitress has a script tattoo on her forearm that we spend dinner guessing what it might read. We later find out it’s French for “Live in the Moment.” Not what anyone guessed.
Grant and I enjoy the tilapia fish tacos, Rick ordered the Hickory Burger, as follows:
“I’ll have the Hickory burger, without cheese. I realize that’s why the burger has it’s name, but the thought of cheese spread on a burger sounds horrible to me.”

Internet Celebrity Baumer asks, “Will there be blog updates in 2010?” Wait and see, ICB, wait and see.

We finish our dinner and start the crawling. Next up, Southport City Saloon (#156). This is a local hangout, not the kind of place that’s a destination to get your friends from other neighborhoods to come visit. It has character, and characters. The old men at the bar are all drunk on wine, one of them repeatedly spills his glass on the bar. One girl is here alone waiting on a friend. We decide that she’s right in ICB’s wheelhouse, and we would spend the rest of the evening writing a song dedicated to her. Ask Rick about his freestyle rap section. PBR’s are on special for $2.50, the bears and niners are currently tied at 0. It won’t stay this way.
Friend of my brother and fellow Baby Atlas-devotee Sarah shows up. She’s been reading of our exploits all year and has only now made her first appearance. Sarah was the first to complain that EBONY had no presence on Twitter (we do now if you haven’t been following @emptyblog). Months ago I told her she had exclusive rights to the EBONY Interview. She thought it meant we would be interviewing her, although I can’t for the life of me figure out why we would do that. That she’s expected to interview us comes as a surprise, so we spend the next 2 bars helping her come up with questions for an interview that may or may not ever grace these pages.

Moving on…our second attempt to visit Maeve (#157) is a successful one (it was closed on a previously attempted visit). A round of PBR’s and 1 Hoegaarden are ordered, and someone in attendance has a puppy dog that we’re all pretty shocked I didn’t attempt to steal. Rick, what’s the count now for number of bars we’ve visited this year that had a dog present? “6”
There’s nothing special about this place tonight. I’d recommend it’s less pretentious neighbor Tavish if you’re ever at the intersection of Wrightwood and Wayne.

Heading further east down Wrightwood we stop in what used to be a fantastic neighborhood bar, Wrightwood Tap (#158). I say used to, because sometime in the last 4-5 years they gutted the place and turned it into a copy of everywhere else. They do have complementary pretzel sticks at the bar, so I’ll give them that. The special is $3 import/microbrews. We ask the waitress what our choices are. She looks at the taps…, “Umm…pretty much Sierra.” The idea of an EBONY 12/19 formal holiday bar crawl is discussed. Nothing is set in stone. The music is terrible here (Buckcherry). The conversation briefly turns back to Halloween, and Grant makes the keen observation as to why a lot of people in boystown didn’t get Rick’s costume (roe v wade). I turn my notebook over to Sarah for the official EBONY interview. A sampling of quotes and notes, I’ll attempt to attribute quotes where I know who said them:

“Those bitches are drinking coors light..the mountains aren’t even blue.”
“I’m the middle child who does things for attention.” – Kyle
“You didn’t REALLY meet Baumer on Craigslist, did you?”
“It’s that stupid Black Eyed Peas ‘mazeltov’ song. Is Lenny Kravitz the only black jewish person?” - Rick
“Romance isn’t the purpose of EBONY. At best, it’s the 4th priority of the mission.” - Kyle
“Who’s this Kip Bayless guy?” - Grant

After 25 minutes, during which time Amanda and her GIANT BACKPACK show up, we take off for the Toasted Ox (#159). This is a terrible bar (we’re about to hit a stretch of terrible bars…bear with us). The special here? The sign says it’s $2 you-call-it’s. Apparently the bar isn’t aware of how bar promotions actually work, because the only thing thats $2 is a plastic Dixie cup full of Miller Lite. My brother asks me to order him a gin & tonic, but I mishear what he says. He is confused when I bring him a Guinness. I try explaining our 2009 mission to our waitress, but I’m fairly certain she’s never had a conversation with anyone for longer than 2 sentences. The guy tending bar with her is sporting a ludiculous pompadour.

Again, moving on, as soon as beers are finished but not soon enough. Rick and I head across the street to Clarke Bar, #160. This is the place attached the breakfast joint on Lincoln, and we’ll just go ahead and award it the Grand Prize in the “Never Judge A Book By It’s Cover” category. From the outside, it looks like a bar I’d spend a lot of time at…from the outside you’d guess it has a similar feel and atmosphere to the brand new bar area inside Lincoln Hall. Cozy, enjoyable, good people, good drinks, well decorated and inviting. That’s from the outside. On the inside…on the inside they’re serving $5 plastic pitchers of Miller Lite, roughly half of the population appears underage, and there’s garbage on most of the tables. I feel like we’re at some 18 year old’s basement party. Inexplicably they’re charging an entry fee at the door, I’m still not sure why. Grant and his friends are lagging behind us at this point. He has the following encounter with the doorman:
D: “$10 cover for each of you.”
G: “What?! $10 cover for this place?”
D: “Okay, how about $10 total?”
G: “How about $5 total?
D: “Hmm…okay”.
(Grant then steps away to answer his phone. It was me calling to confirm that, yes, we were inside this bar. He returns to the door with his friends, literally not 30 seconds from the end of the last conversation.)
D: “$10 cover for each of you.”
G: “You just said $5 total!”
D: “I did? Aww, man. I’m sorry…okay $5 total. Here, take a beer bong!”

We leave Clarke Bar shortly after entering. Now, we originally planned on going for the EBONY record for number of bars in one day. This won’t be happening tonight, I'll explain why soon. Next stop is Soiree, #161. This is a bit of a club joint, complete with a line, expensive cover, and a doorman with a clipboard VIP list operating the velvet rope gateway. We’re on a mission, and we’re not waiting in line. Rick walks up to the guy and tells him, “We’re with Dan Marsden.” Wait, who? You may remember Dan Marsden from our trip to Lincoln Hall from 2 weeks prior. Rick has decided that’s a pretty good name to use for getting into bars. The doorman briefly checks his list, gives up looking, and simply lets us into the club completely skipping the lineup. That’s the best part of the entire Soiree experience. I’d never visit this place if I didn’t have to. Next time you're trying to get into a VIP-only event, go with "Dan Marsden".

We leave Soiree, and we’re hungry. We’re not sure which bars we’re going to next, but now is not the time for crossing more bars of the list. Now is the time for what has previously been referred to as “the incident”. Rick, Grant and I are walking down Lincoln, and Rick and I head down the alley behind The Hoagie Hut. I’d estimate 15-20 seconds later a police car with its lights on follows us down the alley. 3 minutes later, we both have received citations for public urination, and our court dates are in December. Grant has fled the scene and we meet him at La Bamba’s for a very late night dinner. I’ve never understood my brother’s affinity for La Bamba’s, since he works at an upscale burrito joint in Colorado. Something about misguided nostalgia for the Big 10 college experience, I guess.
Anyway, we’ll report back after our visits to the courtrooms of city hall. Our motivation having been killed for the evening, we simply retreat home after our terrible burritos.

Coming soon: maybe some beer mile pictures, a recap of 11/29, a November retrospective, and the final EBONY updates as we wrap up our 2009 mission (soon to be accomplished).