The Hometavern

A non-work night Tuesday pre-4th of July inspired a night of friendship and fun on Lincoln Ave.  The goal was to beat the scalding Summer heat and wrap our lips around as many cold ones as possible.  After leaving Delilah's aka heavy metal concert in your head and heading North across the divide known as Diversey, we were presented with two equally tempting options:  Patsy's, or the first floor of a house (potentially) which, even though was dimly lit and had no name outside, we designated as a bar because of the Old Style sign outside.  We rolled the dice and embraced the welcoming glow of the neon lights and walked inside.

When we walked in, it was... well, like nothing I have ever seen.  This place reminded me of so many places I had never actually seen in real life but envisioned in some imaginary world of what I expect things to be.  Does that make sense?  It was like Grandpa's half-finished basement complete with an apparently storage section in the back, a stocked bar that includes everything from (you guessed it) Old Style on tap to all your standard liquors, and wood-paneled walls covered in the tchotchke and vintage sign store vomit similar to your hometown Applebee's but much more depressing.  The two patrons, which were a local drinking beer from a Hofbrauhaus-sized and his friendly dog, were watching TV with the bartender, and were more than welcoming of our about-to-be-rowdy group of 4.  We put a couple drinks back, I somehow got talked into a shot of Malort, laid down our cash, and we quickly scooted out of there.  To be honest, I am a lover of dive bars, but this was just.. extreme.   There's dive bars and there are *dive bars*.  The Hometavern is where dive bars go to... drown.  

Side note:  At no point did I ever see anything with the bar's name on it, nor find out what the name of the bar actually was.  Thank God for Yelp check-ins!

Minus the cash only part, it's not a bad spot overall.  The bartender was friendly, they allow dogs (!!), and, unlike Delilah's, we could have a conversation and really catch up on friendship... and boozing.

Preface: I like seedy dive-bars, but this was a bit much...

Home Tavern may be a fun stop if you're looking for a novel experience, but don't take it seriously for a night-out. First off, there's no sign indicating the bar's name, just an Old Style sign (very Chicago). Moreover, when I walked in, at 1:30 a.m. on a Saturday, there were just 2 "customers" in the venue, along with an actively growling, confrontative "guard" dog.

My friend felt compelled to ask if they were open, to which one of said "customers" responded, "I'm not sure"-  and looked to the bartender - who sounded more like Slingblade than any other human being upon whom I've ever come across. Dead-on. Hmm.

The ladies' bathroom appears clean, but reaks of stale urine, or perhaps a plumbing issue. The lighting in the bar is harsh, white light (not so flattering, to say the least). There are stuffed animals and defaced dollar bills attached the drop ceiling. The whole back of the bar is unlit, and appears to be full of piles of junk.

The drinks are reasonably strong.

I'm not sure what else to say about this place, other than it makes Club Foot feel like The Violet Hour, and it's run by Germans.

This place is as odd as it is old but I love it. Always a dog or two, bills and opened envelopes stacked on the register and behind the counter. Stuffed animals hanging from the roof and a complete locals feel. That said, I've been welcomed each time I've been there and have enjoyed it, if only for a quick beer.