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The greatest bar in Chicago. Take it away, Kelly…

My Hideout. My beloved Hideout. I love that cruddy little place so very much.
Here’s an e-mail interview I did with Chris Borelli for The Chicago Tribune this week — for an article previewing the annual Hideout Block Party this weekend.
How did you end up there?
I went to see a band play there in the fall of 1997. I think the band was J-200. The back room didn’t really have a stage or anything yet — just one light bulb and the band played on the floor. I immediately loved the look and feel of the place and the wonky location — but the clincher for me was that there was a big fat yellow labrador running around like she owned the place, and she kind of did. Her name was Venus — owner Mike “Ick” Hinschliff’s dog. I asked if patrons’ dogs were allowed to come to the bar, and they said ‘sure’ — so I started going there a lot with my dog Augie.
Were you the first bartender (the first after Tim Tuten and Co. took it over)?
No — I started in late 1998 — cocktail waitressing first — then I got some day shifts. Marie Marasovich and Anastasia Davies showed me the bartending ropes, since I had never done it before. The way I started working there was almost like osmosis or something — I was just there so much that one day I ordered a beer and they said something to the effect of “you know where they are — get it yourself…” Suddenly I was on the other side of the bar opening beers for folks — for the next nine years…
Did you witness the changeover from the older regulars to the new crowd?
Oh yes — very much so. My day shift was ALL old regulars from the manufacturing plant that used to be north of us on Elston. I opened the bar at 2PM and they appeared on my barstools like clockwork at 2:30 every day — Stachel, Chester, Jerry, and Toni — to name just a few. I learned a lot of Polish (“na zdrowie!”) and got a crash course in Chicago bar etiquette — the upside down shot glass “markers” for bought rounds, the cash hanging over the edge of the bar, the expected “on the house” round after a few bought ones, etc. It was like Queen Victoria’s court in there — all this figurative bowing and curtsy-ing! So many little elegant rules for drinking. It was beautiful.
They came in at the same time every day, sat in the exact same order on the exact same barstools, drank the same amount of the same drinks, watched the same t.v. shows, told the same jokes — it was like Groundhog Day. I loved my daytimers. Then they closed the plant and that crowd just evaporated.
At nighttime you could see our old regulars — like the plant workers and the plumbers and contractors that snuck in a beer or two on a trip to Home Depot — get a little uncomfortable with the young mohawkers and baby beatnik free jazz folks, etc. The Hideout was such a welcoming place for all kinds of people all the time — but I think just the more it became a music venue, the less the regulars came around. For one thing, regulars do NOT want to pay a cover charge to come sit and the bar and drink, that’s for sure. We used to waive the cover for our regs, but still…”the music’s too loud…you call this music?…it’s too crowded in here…I can’t hear Alex Trebek…”
But the way the Hideout grew into its current self was a beautiful thing to be a part of. I’m super-proud of anything I may have contributed to that end.
Put it in the context of Chicago bars - i.e., where does it fit in?
We kind of musically took up the slack after Lounge Ax closed, and to me the Hideout was a more friendly sort of nouveau dive bar. I never wanted anyone to feel like they couldn’t come in and feel welcome. I always made sure we had toys and coloring books and crayons for kids, and dog biscuits and water bowls for the dogs — and Venus and my dog Augie were always hanging around. It felt warm to me and I took great pains to make it feel that way to anyone who came in the door. We never tolerated any kind of “cool” attitude that might make people feel frozen out or “unhip” — we’re a huge bunch of passionate dorks.
Simply, what do you like about it?
To me, they became my family, really. I had just moved to Chicago from Atlanta, and I found my perfect bunch of crazy loving cousins in that little building. I’ve always said that my goal in life is to “make the world smaller” you know? Make it so all kinds of folks can be in the same room together — knit ourselves together with music and alcohol — forget race, politics, sex, religion — find common ground in our universal weirdness. Our human-ness. The Hideout is that place for me.
If you get half a chance, by all means, GO GO GO to the block party this Saturday!
http://www.hideoutchicago.com/event/54181/