Having had one too many multiple-night stands with that herpes-infested slut Carol, it was time to find a new late-night haunt. Although it is ONLY open until 3 a.m. on Saturdays, Richard’s in West Town is a pretty good mistress … I mean replacement.
Sidenote: The last time I was there, Rocky the bartender let us stay after the bar closed and smoke AT THE BAR. Old-school green ashtrays and all! Although I don’t smoke much anymore, it felt really good to be smoking inside a drinking establishment. Especially in the dead of winter.
Cough, cough. Really good. Cough. Who’s cool now?
Once upon a time I was a smoker. I used to call it “social smoking.” Social in that I smoked every time I was in the car, when I needed a “break” during or after work, and especially when I was drinking. Before the Chicago bars became non-smoking, I could easily smoke a pack in one night. Sometimes more than that. Then would wake up the next day hacking like I’ve spent my life working in the coal mines. “I think I got the black lung, Pop!”
This habit, coupled with my habit of laying out in the sun using only butter, pretty much ensures I’ll look like a Read More