Waiting in line for a bar…really?

For the past few Saturday nights, I’ve been working at Q101 from 8pm-midnight.  Every time I pull out of the parking garage at Hubbard and Wells, I drive past a line of beautiful people waiting to get into the Bull and Bear. And by “line,” I mean 20-30 deep.  And by “beautiful,” I mean…beautiful.

This led me to wonder what went on inside the place.  What could th ebar and grill offer that’s worth standing outside for?  Pole dancers for the guys?  Mani/pedis for the girls?  As it turns out, table taps and burgers. Compelling, sure, but worth the L.A.-style humiliation?  Doubt it.

My bar-hopping days are admittedly long behind me, but as I remember the process, the idea of going out was:

  • Hang out and get loaded with friends.
  • Gawk at members of the opposite sex.
  • Talk to members of the opposite sex.

If a bar, club, or tap room was too crowded or busy to accomplish those goals, my friends and I would find another place with a liquor license to go to.  There simply was no location whose offerings were so amazing that I was willing to wait behind a rope for the privilege of giving them my money.

This is Chicago.  Cut the velvet rope.   

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