B.L.U.E.S. | Chicago, IL

I’ve got the quit-making-out-in-front-of-me-and-rubbing-each-others’-legs-and-standing-up-from-your-stools-and-bumping-into-me-you-gross-old-people-from-the-suburbs-that-have-had-too-much-to-drink-and-should-just-get-a-room-and-I-know-that’s-what-you’re-thinking-because-I-just-saw-you-pop-a-Viagra blues.  Deh dah-dah dum dah-dum dah-dum …

photo credit: swanksalot

So I was feeling the blues, and Carlos Johnson spoke to my soul, though his actual blues source may have been different than mine.  Great band.  Good bar.  Attentive waitresses.  The crowd …

The crowd was wild.  Seemed to be mostly local with all age groups represented, but there was a good chunk of the suburbs represented and a group of Asian tourists.  I took the tourists as a good sign.  The ‘burbs … there’s something about peeps from the ‘burbs.  Maybe it’s because they don’t drink because they need to drive and they end up sitting a little too stiffly.  Maybe it’s because they drink too much because they’re used to sitting around at home watching Desparate Housewives sucking down cola and they let loose when they visit big ol’ Lincoln Park only to end up drunk forty-somethings making out in the middle of a blues bar, burning an absolutely disgusting image into my mind.  Minus that, this place was great.