Where Everybody Knows Your Name…But You Kinda Wish They Didn’t Part 1

A few years ago a girlfriend (we’ll call her Betsy) and I decided to check out this super hip joint with a spectacular patio after work. We were pretty jazzed about going somewhere new and being adventurous. Normally, we went to the same bar with the same friends, ordered the same drinks and told the same stories. But it was one of the first warm days of the season and we wanted to do something special.

We pulled up to Loco Louie’s, known for their giant tiki drinks and deviled eggs, but the parking lot was overflowing. It was then we noticed the street in front of the bar was filled on both sides as far as the eye could see. We hesitated for a second, did we really want to walk a mile to get to a bar that was obviously overcrowded? Our desire to be one of the “cool kids” and do something different overtook any reservations we had.

So, we drove the mile to an empty piece of curb, parked and started the trek back to Loco Louie’s. We arrived at the famed bar covered in sweat and parched beyond belief. But we figured it was no big deal; everyone had to be in the same condition…we all had to travel the baked sidewalks to get here.

We followed the path to the back patio, overlooking the Mississippi, with great anticipation. We could hear the music beating out an island tune; saw fellow patrons wandering near the parking lot with drinks in coconuts and adorned with umbrellas. Betsy and I gave each other a knowing look; we had totally made the right decision.

As we rounded the corner to the bar and patio area our expectations were dashed! The place was so crowded you couldn’t move let alone even fathom were the bar was to order a drink. Yet all these “beautiful people” were perfectly coifed, had drinks in there hands and looked as though they had just stepped out of a J. Crew catalog. Don’t get me wrong, Betsy and I aren’t wallflowers; we normally turn a few heads when we’re out and about but we had come straight from work, it was only 5:00 in the evening! So, while everyone else looked as though they had just stepped off a yacht, in their linen pants, skimpy dresses and Bermuda shots; Betsy and I stood at the edge of the crowd in what we considered after work casual…slacks and blouses with one extra button undone.

Regardless of our slightly inappropriate attire, we were at the trendy bar and we were going to stay. Betsy and I began squirming our way to where we thought the bar must be; guided only by an intuition earned from my days of pub crawls.

We managed to site the bar and inch our way toward it only to be rudely halted by a middle aged woman in a terrycloth bathing suit cover up, worn as a dress, minus the proper under garments. She shot her arm out in front of us like a police barricade, then glared and spewed “don’t even think about cutting in line.”
Utterly confused because we were at least 30 feet from the bar and staring at an unorganized gaggle of people, Betsy and I slinked back into a corner to strategize.


Immediately, we both agreed that no matter how “happening” Loco Louie’s was, we could not stay. But what next? We didn’t to go back to our usual hangout; this was our adventurous night! We thought for a while, not knowing that in a few short years we would all have fancy cell phones with apps to resolve all our problems.

Finally, we decided to go back to the car and drive down the main boulevard we were closest to and find another bar. Little did we know that this decision would change every happy hour from there on forward.

To be continued…