The Other Place
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. And sometimes you want to go where everybody should know your freakin’ name, dammit. In life as in the Seven Daysies awards, there are winners and losers. And while we celebrate the former, we can’t help but lament the latter. In either case, there’s no better forum in which to raise a glass or drown your sorrows than the classic neighborhood dive bar. In my neighborhood, that bar is The Other Place, aka The O.P. From daily drink specials to stale popcorn, from the garage-door front window to the dank recesses by the pool table, it offers a place for comely hipsters and grizzled barflies alike to toast life’s triumphs or commiserate in its little injustices. Because at The OP, there is always the next beer.
- Dan Bolles