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Monday, June 13, 2011

Bar #7: Jefferson Inn

9:30pm, Wednesday, June 8
4874 N. Milwaukee Ave.
Price of Old Style: $2.75 drafts













The Jefferson Inn is a cozy little place on North Milwaukee Avenue. It's a few places down from the Gale Street Inn, which has some of the best ribs in the city, and next door to Edward Fox photography. I'm not sure of the quality of the pictures that Mr. Fox takes, but there's a statue of him outside the door (update: Ed Fox is long gone...the studio has been around since 1902).

Back to the bar, my brother and I walk in and it's pretty dead. Two women sitting at the bar in the front and that's it. There are a few booths next to the bar, and the back room is up a few steps, and also has a few nice booths, a flatscreen, and electronic darts. Looks like a good place to chill out with friends.

We order our Old Styles and the bartender asks us our names. She's probably in her late 20's/early 30's and is one of the most disproportionate people I have ever seen. She's barely fitting in the shirt she's wearing, with her boobs pushed up to her chin, but her curves end after her waist...no butt whatsoever. Sorry about the bartender critique - this won't be a regular feature of the blog - but this had to be noted. Anyway, she doesn't believe me that my name is Adam, because guys tell her that all the time. Why? Because her name is Eva. Oh, of course! I guess people at dive bars read a different Bible, or maybe they updated the names in the New-New version to make them trendy. If that was so, it would be Aiden, not Adam, and Eva.

Popcorn. There is popcorn behind the bar. Eva quickly fills us a bowl before we even ask - ok, this girl's alright. She convinces us that the bar will pick up after 10pm. We sure hope so, because America's Got Talent is on TV, and we're actually getting into it. Ten o'clock rolls around, and sure enough, people start filling up the place. A good number have just gotten off work at Gale Street Inn, and shots are being ordered. Must have been a rough night at work. No--the shots are being ordered by this guy that just walked in, and seems like a very happy drunk. He's an Indian dude, and reminds me a lot of Rajesh from Big Bang Theory (who can't talk to women unless he's drunk). Raj orders drinks for everyone in the bar, except for us (WTF - getting screwed by the regulars again), and then proclaims a number of times, "Oh man, who the f--k is gonna pay for all this?" We're done with our beers by now, and make our way out. We need to pass Raj to leave the bar, and we wonder if he'll offer us a drink. Nope - all we get is a "See you later, guys!" and a smile. No big deal for us...we had one more bar to hit, and man was it a doozy.

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