Airing my Philthy Laundry

Just a typical Friday night

Every once in a while, the opportunity will come along to rub elbows with greatness. Friday night such an opportunity sprung forth in front of me when Mr. & Mrs. Oneway came into the city from the distant and forgotten land known as the "Western Suburbs" for an evening of fun with yours truly. Knowing that an opportunity like this doesn't come along everyday, I knew I had to plan something socially stimulating, if I ever hoped for a repeat visit. Thoughts raced through my head...

"Maybe a helicopter ride around the city. No, way too loud.
Scuba Diving in Lake Michigan. No, it's 30 degrees out, and that's disgusting."

Then I came up with a great idea. Since Oneway is both an appreciator of the arts, and history, I decided that taking them to The Green Mill (a local jazz bar once frequented by mobster Al Capone) was just the answer. We arrived to the bouncer telling us it's a $12 cover, and while the band was playing, there could be NO talking. The band was playing from 10-2. So since we didn't want to pay $12 each to sit in silence, we decided to go next door to a bar called Crew. Mrs. Oneway didn't have her license with her, so we were weary of whether she could get in. Luckily while explaining the situation to the skinny man sitting by the door, he interrupted her by saying "What's your name." She told him, and he shrieked "Oh my God! We went to high school together. I totally know you!" Immediately followed by "Wait, why are you here?" She explained that we were originally going next door, yada yada yada. To which he replied, "Yeah but why are you here? This is a gay bar."

The words were echoing through my mind "Gay Bar. Gay Bar. Gay Bar" Of course on one of the only occasions my friends come to visit, I inadvertently end up taking them to a gay bar.

Since we had already traveled up there, and they had open tables (in what looked like to be the hetero section, as there were male/female couples in this general region) and they had beer and sports on the TVs...we stayed.

(As a little side note here, I have become less and less homophobic since moving to Chicago. I've actually grown to appreciate the benefits of living near gay neighborhoods. They bring a lot of culture to an area, in terms of art, food, and some aspects of entertainment. The neighborhoods are always safe, and clean. The only price you have to pay is once a year during the Gay Pride Parade, you endure a day of public displays of homosexuality that can best be summarized in the words of my mother: "I understand that they're gay and proud, but I don't get why they have to dress as shirtless cowboys" Nuff said.)

So we spent the night surrounded by males lovingly caressing each other, and being served beer by other men in tight, sleeveless t-shirts and scarves around their necks (afterall, it was winter.) The bathrooms featured pictures of Greg Louganis and Billie Jean King, apparently the two gay sports icons.

Much to my surprise, we had a good time, albeit an interesting and educational night, it was still entertaining. Of course the only way to conclude a night like that is by indulging in the creamy minty goodness that is the McDonald's Sharmrock Shake. It's like happy in a partially recycled paper cup.

posted by philthy @ 5:10 PM