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DOC Wine Bar | Lincoln Park, Chicago
Well, we had a good run, what can I say? Too bad it had to end. We’ve been patrons since it opened and were sometimes the only ones there some nights in its earlier days. Took a little while for this place to catch on, what with its lack of flat-screen TVs and all. But catch on it did.
It’s Thursday and Lisa and I have reason to celebrate. “Let’s get a glass of Champagne,” I suggest. We head over to DOC. The selection is poor: Marquis de la Tour, some other flop, and an actual French Champagne for $17 a glass. “Just get it,” I say. We are celebrating.
We have menus, we have a table, but we have no waitress. We get glasses of water. We look around. WTF?
We wrestle another waitress down. “Have you been helped?” she asks. “We have menus,” we say, “but we’re ready to order.” She promises to find our waitress.
Fifteen minutes have now past. Maybe ten. Too long. “Let’s just go,” Lisa suggests. We get up. We put on our coats. Our waitress appears. “You’re leaving?” she asks. “Yes,” we say. She follows us to the door bewildered, attentive for the first time. DOC, RIP.