Stacey A.'s Profile

Hilarious bathroom graffiti.
Questionable bathroom stall locks.
Everyone making out, all the time.
Everyone also having a dance party, all the time.
Some guy dressed like he fell out of a combination vampire movie/renaissance festival.
Some guy dancing his heart out to A-Ha's "Take On Me" with some girl who has half her head shaved.
Some weird 30-something getting handsy while admitting that he "doesn't know how to pick up women."
That weird 30's something's friend yelling that either his dog or his mother died the other day, and refusing to clarify which one it was.

The Continental is weird, you guys. But you can walk there when The Clipper closes.

(Just be aware that they WILL kick you out at 3:30am sharp.)

I just gave Forever 21 five stars. I know. I knooooooooow. I KNOW.

Stop judging me, I'm about to tell you why. Jerks.

1) This location isn't so much off the beaten path, but it doesn't get the same kind of INSANE traffic that the ones downtown (Michigan Ave, State St, Water Tower) do.

2) This lack of insane patronage means that this location is ORGANIZED.

2a) Yes. An organized Forever 21. Granted, you have to look at it within the context of OTHER Forever 21s but comparatively, they do an awesome job.

3) The sales staff is actually super helpful. Maybe they hate their jobs. Maybe they love their jobs. Whatever they think about whatever, they'll happily answer your questions and help you find items based on their descriptions and talk about sizing and fabric and whatever. Really really great staff.

SO THERE. THREE AND A HALF SOLID REASONS TO LOVE THIS PLACE. And it's a goddamned Forever 21 - which means you can spend $50 and walk out with like, 10 shirts, which staves off laundry day for a good week and a half.

Here is a review of The Owl based on text messages/social media updates sent while there:

- "It's 2am. This may be a bad idea."
- "LOOK AT ALL THE WEIRD FACIAL HAIR!"
- "I don't love you if you don't love the waterfall/fountain-y doodad."
- "Is this place secretly a 1990's theft store coat convention?"
- "Oooooh. Tripel Karmeliet!"
- "OOOOOH. TAMALE GUY!"
- "INXS DANCE PARTY PARTY."

All in all, four stars. This place is ridiculous.

There is a very large difference between a cocktail at a "regular bar" and a cocktail at a "cocktail bar."

At a "regular bar" a cocktail is maybe a rum & coke which is like, one shot of rum and seven shots of coke and five pounds of ice and maybe a lime. At a "regular bar" if you ask for a vodka press the bartender might give you one of those "are you shitting me?" looks until you explain that it's just vodka and soda.

(Note: I feel comfortable making these kinds of statements because I worked in Wrigleyville for three years and that's kind of how things go over there. Anything fancier than a Bud Light or a vodka-cran is almost unheard of.)

At a "cocktail bar" - a cocktail is a goddamned work of art. Violet Hour does it right. The Whistler does it right. The Drawing Room does it right. And The Barrelhouse Flat does it right. Their cocktail menu is full of fantastic classics (i.e.: Sazarac etc.) and some really creative (and pretty!) house originals with fun names.

The upstairs part of the bar is the part you want to be in. And I say this with no disrespect to the first floor, but swanky velvet-flocked wallpaper and little intimate tables that make you feel like you're getting hammered on awesome drinks in someone's very expensive olde timey parlor is just an overall better experience.

Anyhow. I'm getting rambly, so I'll sum up: The Barrelhouse Flat is lovely.

The drinks are lovely. The upstairs decor is lovely. The service is lovely. The doormen are lovely (and funny!). Lovely lovely lovely.

Some bars have whiskey flights. Or wine flights. Or dessert flights.

(I'm not actually sure about that dessert flight, but if that's a real thing, I want to know about it REALLY BAD and someone should keep me in the loop, okay?)

Bakin' & Eggs has a BACON FLIGHT.

And if that's not enough to get you going, there's bottomless coffee, bomb-ass frittatas, severely awesome breakfast potatoes and the whole place is kind of adorable.

You're welcome.

Timely.

Relatively inexpensive.

A super fast way to get from Manhattan to Brooklyn to Queens with a killer skyline view.

It'd be nicer if there was more than one ticket kiosk at each dock, because missing a boat because the line is long is kind of shitty.

A marvelous, marvelous shithole.

And I say shithole in the most loving way I can say it because it has all the things I like:

- dumpy decor (read: x-mas lights)
- a jukebox
- Budweiser on tap for $4
- not full of douchebags

It's perfect. And in case you're not into Budweiser (which is dumb of you, because Budweiser tastes like America), they actually have a lot of craft beers in bottles.

(ALSO - I was here on a Wednesday. So maybe it's different on other days? But for a Wednesday - it was pretty damned awesome.)

There may come a time in your life when your friend will say to you:

"Let's go get giant toasted marshmellow milkshakes with vodka in them!"

On the surface, this is a great idea because boozey milkshakes are always a good idea.

The part where this heads south, is where each of you gets your OWN giant boozey milkshake - rather than splitting one.

I say that you should split one because the sugar content of ONE of these sonsabitches is roughly equal to a pound of sugar and it will sit in your stomach in the same way that a pound of sugar would: like a brick. It will sit in you like a big unsexy brick.

What I'm getting at is that one sip of these things could put a diabetic in a coma. Share one; there is no reason for you to have one of these on your own.

(Also, they're $8 which is kind of a lot for a milkshake that is not prepared for you by a naked Ryan Gosling.)

A shitton of awesome beers for $5 each.

It's marvelous.

You're welcome.

It's neat when you go somewhere to eat and you literally stare at the menu for a solid twenty minutes because everything is something you want and you're hungry and you can't decide.

Because that was my experience at BAD Burger.

That said, if you want to be like me and get a Vanilla Egg Creme and a "Police Escort" (burger with blue cheese) - I think I'd be cool with it.