At around 3am Friday I ended up with forever pal Megan Besmirched (bewitching artist) and new pal Jeff Hinton (buyer of beers) at a bar they had been to the night before and were excited about me seeing. Called Sidekicks at 4424 W Montrose, it's the everything is just weirdly off bar. Now I fully realize I'm in no position to judge, I'm sure I could end up being BFF with half the folks there, the owners might be the most wonderful people ever and if I lived next door chances are it would be my new hangout. Having said that.
It's not obviously horrible like a sports bar that was decorated in a day when they bought a bunch of memorabilia and screwed it into the walls, or a place with thumping Ke$ha tunes where I can only converse in my eyes (which I can do just fine, M'Lady), but strange in a much more enjoyable "What's wrong with this picture" kinda way. Brightly lit with a crowd that looks like they were just snatched and transported randomly from anywhere USA, a Walmart, a theme park or traffic court and plopped down among the odd arrangement of bar stools, benches and booths. For goodness sake, Bon Jovi was playing over the speakers, the crown prince of lowered expectations.
I snapped a couple pics inside the Men's room to show Megan that summed it up for me. Two posters show a bikini clad gal made devoid of personality and anonymous by her teased '80's hair covering her face bent over a red porsche. She holds prop tools while the sexual innuendo license plates read "Hot Wax" and "Tite Fit". They are so AMAZINGLY lowest common denominator that you can't take your eyes off them. It would be impossible to purposefully be so cleverness and bland, which makes them magical.
I'm here to love, not dis, so don't get me wrong, I LIKE Sidekicks!
I recommend you go there and come up with your list of odd observations, I know I'll be back!
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