I’ve been coming here for eight years, and I like that everybody looks out for you if you have too much to drink. It’s nothing like what I experienced when I bartended in New Orleans for about a year. I was working one night when all of a sudden this guy–he was a 250-pound hillbilly type, imagine your worst nightmare–didn’t want to pay $3 for a beer. He was just awful. Anyway, later on I heard a commotion, and I looked over by the side door and saw the bouncer picking the guy up. He had his pants down around his ankles and apparently had been taking a dump in the garbage can. Oh boy. The bouncer, who was like 400 pounds, threw him out into the street, and the guy was so drunk he was utterly oblivious–it was like something on Jackass, though it wasn’t funny. That same week I came across two girls having sex in the bathroom. Both things were a factor in my return to Chicago. Everybody’s constantly drunk down there. Your whole life is piss and vomit and stale beer, and that’s no way to live–it takes away from the romance of such a beautiful city. So I decided to return to Chicago where the normal drunks are. –Kindall Wierzbiaski, administrative assistant