We proved for the second time in a row the scientific theory that the best way to make the night of a bartender in an empty bar is to fill said bar with thirsty cyclists. Aside from Dilcia the bartender and the barback, Jarheads was empty.
Meet up was at Gannon's as per usual. We even were name checked by the Shelia owner on the chalk board out on the sidewalk. I intended to take a picture of this kickass gesture, but had a few beers and forgot. As for the theme, we did have about 6 zombies stagger in. Ironically, someone was killed in a hit and run accross the street from Gannon's a few days prior. Quite a shock to the regulars and the barstaff when bloody folks came walking in from the sidewalk.
Anyway, PJ lead a good route northwards. Winnemac park was a good pee break for all the morons who didn't go before we left, and we continued our northerly cranking till we got to Jarheads.
Now, Jarheads...what can I say? A small dive with cheap beer, pool table and a taco joint next door. What could be more perfect for the FBC? The posters of marine fighter planes on the ceiling even inspired mach 3 cycling. Carolyn and Aaron dropped a few quarters in the latin jukebox (songs chosen by virtue of cover-art) which in turn sparked some salsa dancing and butt groovin during games of pool.
The Red Line near the metra tracks was extra credit for us dumbshits who wanted to ensure hangovers. PJ was herded away from the door and towards home and all returned to normal until the next full moon.