Last night my plan was to go see a band called Battles play the Metro. I saw them over the Summer at the Pitchfork music festival and their set blew my mind, really. It was one of the Top 5 sets of live music I have ever seen live.
Anyways, I was excited to learn they were coming back to Chicago and fully intended to get my RAWK on. Although the Roomie is little short on funds at the moment, she agreed to come with me, and after eating at a sweet Mexican joint we were on our way to the show.
Walking north on Clark we were asked by a guy on the street if we had any extra tickets for the show. He was pointing his finger in the air for an extra, which you normally only see at big "hippy" shows, such as The Dead, Phish or Widespread Panic. This was not a good sign. I asked him if the show was sold out and he replied that it was. Fuck.
Loaded on Jack Daniels (I bought a half pint to bring into the show but we ended up drinking most of it before we got to the venue) I asked no one in particular what in the hell we were going to do now. Before Roomie could even answer I said "fuck it - let's hit up Boystown! WOOT!" (perhaps a little too loudly as several Hipsters standing around shot me a perplexed look).
Roomie shrugged and said "sure why not..."
And off we went (for those not familiar with Chicago geography the Metro is next to Wrigley Field, which is mere blocks north of Halstead Ave/Boystown). I managed to rouse a friend out of bed and we walked over to Circuit, a popular gay nightclub.
We walked in, got carded and walked towards the back, but they wanted to charge a cover, and since the sound of "crickets" chirping in the background was louder than the music, we opted to go elsewhere.
We met said friend at Hydrate, but the 3 of us were the only people there. Literally. However we stayed for a round of beers because, well, why not?
The hot bartender also encouraged us (me) to stay and I chatted him up. Tall, dark hair, backwards cap and lots of tattoos. Oh - shit and I just remembered the sexy doorman - tall, athletic blond guy also sporting a baseball cap. He probably doesn't know it, but he put dirty thoughts into my mind...
Next stop: Roscoe's. I've said it before and I'll say it again now, this place does nothing for me. I realize it's one of if not the oldest bar/club in Boystown but everyone that works there rubs me the wrong way. Also, there wasn't eye candy worth leering at. So...
...we went to Spin, a place I like since it's usually low key (sometimes a good thing) which was not the scene I was looking for last night. However, we stayed for a pitcher of beer anyways. I awkwardly (drunkenly) shot some pool but since it was getting a little late we decided to go home. Or so I thought.
Dee went home, and Roomie and I decided to hit up Crew (technically it was on the way home). Again, it was dead (where were all the gay men in Chicago last night? Seriously, was there some secret warehouse party that I wasn't aware of?) but we stayed for yet another round.
As the hour approached Midnight, Roomie and I decided we should probably call it a night, especially in light of the fact that I had to wake up in 7 hours or so. Roomie wanted to wait for the bus but I replied "Fuck that [burp] shit, I'm taking a cab" and thus concluded our whirlwind tour of Chicago gay nightlife.
Seriously, where were the boys? Maybe I'll find some tonight...
Anyways, I was excited to learn they were coming back to Chicago and fully intended to get my RAWK on. Although the Roomie is little short on funds at the moment, she agreed to come with me, and after eating at a sweet Mexican joint we were on our way to the show.
Walking north on Clark we were asked by a guy on the street if we had any extra tickets for the show. He was pointing his finger in the air for an extra, which you normally only see at big "hippy" shows, such as The Dead, Phish or Widespread Panic. This was not a good sign. I asked him if the show was sold out and he replied that it was. Fuck.
Loaded on Jack Daniels (I bought a half pint to bring into the show but we ended up drinking most of it before we got to the venue) I asked no one in particular what in the hell we were going to do now. Before Roomie could even answer I said "fuck it - let's hit up Boystown! WOOT!" (perhaps a little too loudly as several Hipsters standing around shot me a perplexed look).
Roomie shrugged and said "sure why not..."
And off we went (for those not familiar with Chicago geography the Metro is next to Wrigley Field, which is mere blocks north of Halstead Ave/Boystown). I managed to rouse a friend out of bed and we walked over to Circuit, a popular gay nightclub.
We walked in, got carded and walked towards the back, but they wanted to charge a cover, and since the sound of "crickets" chirping in the background was louder than the music, we opted to go elsewhere.
We met said friend at Hydrate, but the 3 of us were the only people there. Literally. However we stayed for a round of beers because, well, why not?
The hot bartender also encouraged us (me) to stay and I chatted him up. Tall, dark hair, backwards cap and lots of tattoos. Oh - shit and I just remembered the sexy doorman - tall, athletic blond guy also sporting a baseball cap. He probably doesn't know it, but he put dirty thoughts into my mind...
Next stop: Roscoe's. I've said it before and I'll say it again now, this place does nothing for me. I realize it's one of if not the oldest bar/club in Boystown but everyone that works there rubs me the wrong way. Also, there wasn't eye candy worth leering at. So...
...we went to Spin, a place I like since it's usually low key (sometimes a good thing) which was not the scene I was looking for last night. However, we stayed for a pitcher of beer anyways. I awkwardly (drunkenly) shot some pool but since it was getting a little late we decided to go home. Or so I thought.
Dee went home, and Roomie and I decided to hit up Crew (technically it was on the way home). Again, it was dead (where were all the gay men in Chicago last night? Seriously, was there some secret warehouse party that I wasn't aware of?) but we stayed for yet another round.
As the hour approached Midnight, Roomie and I decided we should probably call it a night, especially in light of the fact that I had to wake up in 7 hours or so. Roomie wanted to wait for the bus but I replied "Fuck that [burp] shit, I'm taking a cab" and thus concluded our whirlwind tour of Chicago gay nightlife.
Seriously, where were the boys? Maybe I'll find some tonight...
4 comments:
Bummer about the show, they were so amazing at Pitchfork.
And bummer also about the nightlife. It always sucks having a slow night when that's not what you're looking for.
Better luck tonight!
The Boystown boys went to look for you at about the time you went to Boystown looking for them. You just missed each other.
Bummer, huh?
Yes it was a dead night.. But don't worry I made up for it later in the week.
Hmmm..I need to visit Chicago again.
I will always have a soft place in my heart for Roscoe's because it was the first gay bar outside of Indianapolis that I have ever visited (well, actually that would have been Manhole, that is actually Hydrate now...but I try to block that out of my mind). Anyway, I love its concept, but I find it so difficult to move around in there and full of twinkies, that I am more than happy to stay at Sidetracks now. I guess I'm getting old...
Post a Comment