Copley's Cafe & Tavern

Well, well, well. Once again, I am proud to be the first to review another establishment that my fellow Yelpers have either neglected, ignored, ran away from, or overlooked. Which ever it may be, my review shall be gospel, so mindless masses, listen up, and heed the words of your savior.

Copley's is a small DelCo dive bar situated precariously above I-95 on Chichester Ave. Literally, if the earth were to rumble even the smallest of quakes, Copley's could very well perform a Triple Lindy crashing down on to I-95 taking out truckers, and commuters alike. "Mommy, why are Daddy, Uncle Joey, and that one legged woman who looks like a man falling out of that building onto the road?" My first, and only, but not to be last, visit was a few days ago around 1 pm on a Thursday. Yes, my life is shameful, and many times reminiscent of a bad George Thorogood song, but this time, I SWEAR that there was a good reason to find me in a sleaze pit, rat hole of a bar in the middle of a work day. I had to meet a business associate here on the way up to a Phillies businessman's special to grab a ticket, and Copley's just happens to be his "go to" pregame spot. I had heard stories from him about this place before. Stories such as "Yeah, so this Pagan almost kicked my buddy's ass for buying some  girl (the Pagan's) a drink.", and "If you want to have a REALLY good time, you need to get to Copley's to watch the Al Albert's version of karaoke". Needless to say, I was exhilarated, worried, and ready for anything when I walked in.

As I entered, I saw the kind of place that strikes up memories of similar haunts- Maximilian's (soon to be reviewed), The Hide Away (ditto), and Harry's American Bar (read the review). Copley's is blue collar. It is a bar and a package store with zero pretension. Cigarette stained brown paneling. Stained carpet. A dart board. Some take out coolers in the back. And its dark. Really dark. This is the kind of place guys go to to dodge something in their lives, ie. work, wife, children, Yelp reviews, etc. You know the kind of place. You've been there.

As I made my way in, there were shifty eyed guys hiding behind Yuengling bottles. A couple of Union boys smoking, and laughing. And then there was my associate with three other guys holding down a corner of the bar. They were sitting next to a guy who looked like he hadn't shaved in days. He was playing on one of those game machines that sits on the bar. As I made myself comfortable on the stool in between my associate and the stranger.  I could tell the stranger had just applied a few dabs of his favorite cologne, "Landfill" (made exclusively by Sunoco of Marcus Hook), and as I peered over I am pretty sure he hadn't put any money in the game. He was just pressing buttons, and grinning stupidly at the machine. Our bartender, was a salty, likable middle aged woman with a 2 pack a day raspiness in her voice, and high command of the English language. "Youse want another round?" Of course, weese do.

After only two of those rounds, we, of course made friends with our neighbor, but alas had to depart. I know I will return, and for the sake of this review, and my Yelping reputation, I will try food if they serve it. When I am on my death bed dying of dysentery though, just tell my wife I love her.