Tuesday night, after our show at the club, I talk Pete into visiting a neat little pub we passed earlier in our exploration of St. Louis. It's in a not-so-great area of town, and it's a little corner building that looks as if it was the corner in a row, but the rest of the buildings were torn down. Also, it's under an overpass.
This pub turns out to be FANTASTIC. It's definitely a hole-in-the-wall, with a bartender full of personality, a kitchen that stays open as long as the bartender feels like cooking for you, and colorful regulars who will even indulge one seeking a tour of the elusive "upstairs." There's a jukebox that has an adequate amount of classic bar-crowd-pleasers, the drinks are dirt cheap and strong, the wings are perfectly outstanding, and there's KENO!! Pete and I have a wonderful time. Then I wake up in the middle of the night with the worst heartburn of my life (I think I'm dying and wish I would). All well worth it.
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