If we were at all fearful of the in-house backlash awaiting us on our next trip in, we would have skipped writing this shit hole up. An article from Scene stapled to the wall has the photos of the last reviewers of Dot n' Beanies bar (on St. Clair at 62nd) all drawn up with devil horns, mustaches, and NAMBLA t-shirts.
Not to mention a pack of wild dogs roams the floor of the bar. Well, not a pack, but they really are actual dogs.
The mystique of this tavern of loneliness ends there. The jukebox is okay, the bar is always empty, and the really hot chick only works every third Tuesday. It is a good spot to hideout, but only when you really want to hide out alone as opposed to hiding away with a bunch of drunks who make you feel good about your life. You've got to go to Helen's for that.
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