"Wrigleyville" Bar Project: Richard's

With the name Saloon included in our moniker, one could surmise that we here at TMS like to drinky drinky. One that would make such an assumption would be correct, thereby throwing out the whole, 'when you assume you make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me' bullshit. We're here to profile some of the local watering holes around Wrigley, so that you aren't the poor sap who gets dragged into going to the Cubby Bear before the game, wherein you are soon left wondering how your life spiraled out of control so quickly. Tommy Buzanis has pledged to help out with this column, as he is no stranger to the bottle, but you can rest assured that those promises are as empty as his shot glass. So here it is, another sporadically timed, mildly entertaining column that you can only find here at the TMS. Actually you can probably find lots of info on Wrigley bars in a much more concise and helpful format, but that's neither here nor there.

Today’s Bar: Richard's Bar 491 N Milwaukee Ave

Website: Nope

Douchebag Factor: (1-10, with 10 being this guy): 2

Who You’ll See Here: Ray Liotta, Harvey Keitel, Joe Pesci, Joey Callo

What to Order: There aren’t any beers on tap. The liquor is behind the bar and everything else is kept in two huge refrigerators. Beers are all $3 except Guinness, which is $4. There was a sign that said you could buy four cans for $9, but it was for carryout only. Also, hard boiled eggs are available for $.75 if you brought your appetite. Though, the word eggs had quotes around it, so that's something.

Summary: I know that I’ve been venturing further and further away from Wrigley with the bar write-ups but nobody wants to hear about the same places and this is about 200 paces from my front door. I also know how much everyone here at the Saloon loves the Gingerman Tavern, but I’ll venture to say that this place will give it a run for its money. The last time I walked in, there wasn’t even a bouncer. Cash only so don’t embarrass yourself by ordering a round and handing over some plastic. There’s a No Smoking sign taped to another sign advertising packs of smokes for $8.75. I didn’t even recognize all the brands.

There are a few seats here and there but just about everyone is standing by the end of the night. I’m told there’s a bathroom but I can’t say I’ve ever made the trip. The bartenders are probably as old as the bar itself and the only cleavage you’ll see serving drinks comes with a gold chain and chest hair.

Let's try this place, what could go wrong?
There’s an A/C running almost constantly and on any given night, you’ll hear the same rotation of about a dozen songs over and over again from the jukebox. Not to say that's necessarily a bad thing, I didn't hear a bad song all night, which was great for dancing with all the married women. The two enormous posters of Goodfellas are surrounded by various endorsements from famous Chicago personalities and weird “shenanigans”-style antiques.

Finally, the beer. They have everything from common domestics, to Old Style, to Hamm’s in cans and bottles. Three American dollars for each. If you want anything fancy, you can always leave. The End.