Sunday January 15, 2012 at 14:07

23 notes
Dear The Long Room,
I didn’t go visit you until the end of 2009 - despite living a few blocks away for two years prior. Maybe I didn’t feel “old” enough to go there? Maybe it’s because I was working in a Wrigleyville bar at the time and had no real desire to go out and go drinking because I was just burned out on bars. Maybe I’m just an idiot.
I’m probably just an idiot.
Whatever the reason I didn’t go - I finally made my way to you in…October of 2009, at the tail end of what would turn out to be an incredibly productive/awesome first date.
When I was unemployed, I went every Tuesday to visit Nicole, the bartender, and to drink $1 PBR cans. Sometimes I’d bring my dog. Sometimes tamale guy would show up. Sometimes the creepy guy that comes to you, The Long Room, and tries to talk to women would show up. I’d always have a lovely time.
Your staff is delightful - Dina gives me a hug every time I come in, and all the other bartenders recognize me and say hello. You swap out your beer taps every other week or so - sometimes sooner. The music is on point - everything from Archers of Loaf to The Zombies and all sorts of weird crap in between. I have made a hundred drunk memories in your photo booth and them promptly forgotten them because I was drunk. I have spent my last two birthdays there, getting absolutely shitcanned. I have brought in pizza and sat at the bar and shared with everyone else who was there.
What I’m getting at, The Long Room, is that I love you. I love everything about you, and I’m so glad you’re so close to me and that you continually show me a good time.
Love,
Stacey

Dear The Long Room,

I didn’t go visit you until the end of 2009 - despite living a few blocks away for two years prior. Maybe I didn’t feel “old” enough to go there? Maybe it’s because I was working in a Wrigleyville bar at the time and had no real desire to go out and go drinking because I was just burned out on bars. Maybe I’m just an idiot.

I’m probably just an idiot.

Whatever the reason I didn’t go - I finally made my way to you in…October of 2009, at the tail end of what would turn out to be an incredibly productive/awesome first date.

When I was unemployed, I went every Tuesday to visit Nicole, the bartender, and to drink $1 PBR cans. Sometimes I’d bring my dog. Sometimes tamale guy would show up. Sometimes the creepy guy that comes to you, The Long Room, and tries to talk to women would show up. I’d always have a lovely time.

Your staff is delightful - Dina gives me a hug every time I come in, and all the other bartenders recognize me and say hello. You swap out your beer taps every other week or so - sometimes sooner. The music is on point - everything from Archers of Loaf to The Zombies and all sorts of weird crap in between. I have made a hundred drunk memories in your photo booth and them promptly forgotten them because I was drunk. I have spent my last two birthdays there, getting absolutely shitcanned. I have brought in pizza and sat at the bar and shared with everyone else who was there.

What I’m getting at, The Long Room, is that I love you. I love everything about you, and I’m so glad you’re so close to me and that you continually show me a good time.

Love,

Stacey

(Source: cmillr)

This post was reblogged from .

  1. staceyjoy reblogged this from cmillr and added:
    Dear The Long Room, I didn’t go visit you until the end of 2009 - despite living a few blocks away for two years prior....
  2. philk reblogged this from cmillr
  3. thrueyesofarunner said: dude we need to go out next time i visit chicago! i miss that city
  4. nickgerber said: MY FAVORITE BAR EVER!!! Who’s serving tonight? Dina? James? MY PEOPLE!
  5. bonjourlaura said: I fucking love that bar. You’re in my former hood!
  6. cmillr posted this