Drinking establishments like Richard's Bar on Milwaukee Avenue in Chicago's River West neighborhood always catch my wandering--but sober--eye. I've never stepped inside but I don't have to. I can imagine who's in there (a socio-eco-weave of hip, working class, and Board of Trade snark). I know what it smells like (4:01 AM after 15 shots of Jager). I know what the vibe is (a long pull of killer juke box with a low-tension--but mounting--conversational chaser). Nope; no need to enter. I can see inside with my third eye. As pitifully inviting as it looks from the sidewalk, even on my best drinking day, it would only be a matter of time...
