And thank you for all the lovely comments, e-mails, and shout outs yesterday- that’s the kind of stuff that keeps me moving.
You da best.
A couple weeks ago, my friends and I received the distressing news that our one and only college bar, Hamilton’s (Rogers Park, chicks, I went to school in Rogers Park) was closing down.
After 80 years.
We did what any ladies would do in this situation, and made plans to go there on a Thursday.
I believe you can see where this is headed.
Last night it was raining like crazy, so when we all got to Ky’s, we were soaked.
So we drank some vodka.
And maybe banked the rest for later.
Step #1 to reliving 22: BYOV, everywhere.
I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift all day, I noted. I feel kind of crazy.
At this point, JD threw me a stern look. That song crosses the line with me. You cannot sing about feeling 22 when you ARE 22. It’s not right.
She’s got a point- but I love that jam anyway.
We took a cab to the North Side, because we aren’t actually 22, and so the bus in the rain at 8:00 PM felt like not a good idea.
The cab driver was confused as to why we wouldn’t want to go downtown instead.
We know where we’re going, we used to live there! We were adamant.
He told us we should eat something.
So we did.
We met up with MC, grabbed Korean food and maybe also drank vodka sodas on the sly in the restaurant (probably not really on the sly, I think to myself this morning), and headed over to Hamilton’s to say our farewells.
The place was packed, sort of because it was Thursday, but mostly because it’s closing and anyone who’s ever been there is depressed about it.
After deciding that we were too old to drink the bright blue drinks the actual college students were having, we settled on pitchers of beer.
And then I decided we should probably do a parting shot, in honor of our old spot.
It’s just a tiny one, I hissed, as I passed them around.
Finally, after sharing some more stories, pitchers of beer, and lamenting about the injustice of shutting the place down (also, maybe looking for something to take as a souvenir, and coming up empty. Why did I ever throw away all that stuff we used to steal, I asked JD. She just held my hand and shook her head), we decided to head back to our respective neighborhoods.
Do you think we should go knock on the door of Lakewood Manor? JD asked, referencing our senior year apartment, which we loved more than any four girls have ever loved an apartment.
Ding Dong Ditch? Ky asked.
More like Ding Dong Confrontation! I suggested.
I think it’s more like Ding Dong Do you know what you have? someone said.
It was at that point that we realized a cab would be the best thing.
We’ll miss you, Hammie’s. Thanks for enabling our poor decisions and keeping us air-conditioned.