It all started when we finished disastrously and haphazardly tossing as many of Hock's belongings into my apartment. (Moving is a pain in the ass...I am so effin glad that I'm not the one actually moving for once.) We finally got into my car and started heading west. I had absolutely no fucking clue what the hell I was doing...and, honestly, the GPS Hock brought with confused me more than anything. Helpful once I got used to it, but technology basically confuses me. Yup.
Anyway, we got into Chi-town around 10(ish?) and checked into the hotel. Congress Plaza is really nice, though the shoebox they had the two of us jammed into was not exactly as awesome as the "gold-room" postcards they were handing out in the main lobby.
Gold Room:
Our Room:
(Well, close)
Favorite part about the hotel? The bathroom door wouldnt actually shut due to an issue involving hinge placement.
After getting ready we decided to venture out into the Chicago nite in search of cheap booze and busty broads. This, however, turned out to be harder than we realized. Turns out, our hotel was not located in the more happenin area and we, as out-of-towners, had no fucking clue where to go.
Answer to any problem? Ask the Cabbie! He took us to Harry Caray's:
Which was AWESOME! Where else would a waitress decide to make up for INCREDIBLY SLOW SERVICE by BUYING US BEER!
TWICE!
Hung out there for a bit and then Hock got hold of some people he knew that lived out there...who told us to go to Flat Iron and meet them. So we hopped in a cab and headed in that direction.
We ended up here:
Piece bar. I seriously thought that this was Flat Iron. There was a fucking street sign right in front of the place that said Flat Iron! Damn Chicago trickery! Turned out that Piece is actually a really sweet bar. They had a live band playing some quality tunage along with a plethera of Piece Specific beers, killer customer area, phenomenal architecture, and a general sense of trendsetter community love. My favorite thing about this place was the band. And by band, I mean that they had a live band playing and KARAOKE!!!
Finished our beers, then consulted our nav systems on our sweet James Bond phones and found that we were actually really close to our intended destination. Left Piece and ventured onward.
Flat Iron:
Finally made it. This bar scared me. Well, okay, it didnt really scare me, but it was definitely not my bag...Good place, but reminded me of a shady biker bar where everything looks dirty and grungy but for some reason you still want to go home with most of the women. Never did find the people we were trying to meet up with. Did get to see some guy snap a pool stick in half.
We left there and kind of wandered around for a minute before deciding to head to another bar...This would be the last place we went to that nite and, sadly, neither one of us has any idea what the goddamn name of it was. It was, in fact, the most fun I had at any of the bars and I'm totally heading back there the next time that I am in Chicago. But yeah, great bar, kinda upscale, amazingly sexy people all over the place, good service, well set up, and just amazingly bad but totally perfect club music. Not a place to start, but a phenomenal place to finish.
After the bars everything is kind of a blur. Hock suggested that we go to Flash Burrito(?) to get some delicious munchies before heading back to the hotel.
I had no idea that Zordon was busy making burritos these days. I love it. The food was delicious and sexy. Yep, the food had sex appeal...which means that I was really drunk. And hungry. And horny. And hungry.
Saturday nite was a fucking blast. Stay tuned for Sunday...
1 comment:
Flat Iron was not that good of a bar. The guy snapping a pool cue was hysterical though.
Yes, the burrito place is called Flash.
Also, people in that city are incredibly nice when you ask for directions. I'm surprised
Post a Comment