Chicago

From the pocket device, I see that there is a pub named Dugan’s nearby.  I walk east.  It’s a pleasant, comfortable place.

A long brick box stretches back from the front window and door.  In the front half of the bar, an island bar holds the middle of the space.  In back, people sit at tables and chairs.  Mia, the barmaid, is nervous on her first day at work.  Couple by couple, the bar begins to fill.  The sound of talk and laughter fill the air.  Mia is busy, animated.

A few months ago in Chicago, I walked north, to Dylan’s.  It was more wood than brick.