Fancy Night In Chicago

Although I occasionally spend my weekends locked away in my apartment, I also have a social life.  Well, I try to have a social life.

My latest attempt was last weekend.  I texted a Mississippi friend about going out for drinks (yay for Southerners in the city).  When I asked to hang out, she already had plans, but because of Southern hospitality, she invited me to tag along.

We planned to meet at bar described on Yelp! as a speak-easy, 1920s themed place.  Plus, my friend told me they were dressing kind of  ‘fancy’.  Sounds fun!  I put on my best ‘going out’ attire and got ready for a night on the town.  However, I’m still working on how to properly estimate my time of travel when using the CTA.  So, I was about 20 minutes late arriving….and I see a few velvet ropes and a line.  Say what?  I have never, ever had to stand in line to wait for a bar in Mississippi (concert, maybe but bar – no!).  I texted my friend to make sure I was in the right place.  I was and she was already inside.

No biggie.  Clearly, this is what people in Chicago do: you wait in line to go to a bar.  So, I got in line.  On this particular evening, I noticed two kinds of people: the kind who wait in line and the kind who form a condescending clump of people near the door because they are too important to stand in line.  Supposedly, some of them had reservations, but I’m pretty sure most of them were just sweet talking their way in (successfully I might add!).

Here are a few other characters I encountered in line:

1.  The Birthday Diva:  This chick was wearing some sort of birthday crown and must have already had reservations.  She and a few friends were let in just moments after I arrived.  However, she came outside at least two more times to find her late arriving friends.  She clearly enjoyed having the ‘power’ of choosing people to come in….smug bitch.

2.  The Quitters:  As I stood in line, people in front of me would leave.  The larger the condescending clump became, more responsible, in-line waiters left. I felt so bad for these guys….but not too bad because as they left I inched closer to the door.

3.  The Fake Celeb:  Even though the temperature was steadily dropping, I noticed many ladies around me who were wearing not enough clothing.  Short skirts, no tights, stripper heels, and some with no clothes at all.  One in particular (with the stripperest heels of them all) was very vocal about entering the bar.  We have all seen this girl; she knows she’s pretty and therefore thinks she’s entitled to whatever she wants.  She asked the bouncer to let her in.  When he asked if she was on the list, she told him that she was a Kardashian.  I dramatically rolled my eyes, but there was no need because the bouncer wasn’t giving in.  After that, she left.  I guess she was too good for the line AND for the condescending clump.

4.  The Four Douschebags of the Apocalypse:  These four dudes standing directly behind me in line were maybe the most annoying of all.  I had no choice but to listen to their bro-ism filled commentary from the hotness of every passing girl to the declining temperatures to the stupidity of waiting in this line.  They complained every time someone got in the bar and cheered when the Quitters left the line.  I hated them.

5.  The Nice Lesbian Couple:  I don’t know for sure if they were lesbians, but I like to think they were.  Both women were dressed up (one even had a roaring 20s inspired hairstyle), and I gathered (because I was eavesdropping) that this particular evening was a special occasion.  Because of the Quitters, I was now directly behind them in line.  I liked these ladies – mostly because after they witnessed the Fake Celeb chick claim to be a Kardashian, the 20s hairstyle turned to the short hair style and said, “She’s going to hell.”  After that comment, I didn’t care about myself anymore…..but by golly, I wanted the lesbians to get in!

I’m not sure if they were let in or not, because just then I got a text that my friend was leaving.   So after 45 minutes of waiting in the cold, I got out of the line and waited by the door.  Don’t worry, I distanced myself so that I wouldn’t be confused with those who were a part of the condescending clump.   It was at this point that I discovered one final type:

6. Asshole Bouncer:  He wasn’t the main guy with ‘the list’.  This guy was clearly lower on the food chain because he was in charge of the Exit door.  However, while waiting for my friends, I saw him let in a whole passel of girls who were giving up and leaving the club.  He did not invite me in with them.  I’m sure he could tell that I was above the whole scene.

So, my friend and I ended up at a dive bar where I drank PBR in my ‘fancy dress’.  That’s when she told me about having met the owner of the elite club and being let in to the VIP area.  I tried to convince myself that although I stood outside the whole time, my story was way better than hers.  When that didn’t work, I just drank more beer.

 

 

 

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