I’ve done my fair share of pub-crawling over the course of the years. In fact I’ve even managed to make “royalty” status for the annual Twelve Bars of X-mas crawl in Chicago. Every now and then I break from my usual crawl circuit and try something new. This weekend some friends and I tried out a Trolley crawl. It seemed like a fun way of going to different bars throughout the city. As with any new experience, people are bound to make mistakes as was the case with what I now refer to as the Trolley trap.
Things were off to a rocky start from beginning when it took me two hours to commute into the city during rush hour. I’m used to the misery of this drive during the week; however, it became really stressful as I watched the minutes ticking by realizing that there was a good chance I was going to miss the trolley which was leaving promptly at 8. By some miracle I was able to arrive on time although was not to thrilled about getting on another form of transportation. The trolley ride itself was ok but I think the key to this whole experience is drinking on the trolley, a grave oversight since we did not think to bring alcohol with us for the ride.
Once we reached the first bar things got a little better and I was able to start to unwind with a beer only to realize that there was really only time for one drink and then we needed to get back on the stupid trolley to reach our next destination. The second leg of the journey was a little more lively as people started to become more conversational; however, I soon realized I was in danger of being accosted by a creepy “rock of ages” drunk guy as I watched him scare off the three girls that sat between him and I. One by one the girls got up and moved to other parts of the trolly squishing into what was left of the available seating space. Sure enough drunk guy moved over to sit by lucky me, the only remaining female on that particular trolley bench. The next 15 minutes of the trolley ride were excruciating to say the least and I could not get off it soon enough.
For the final leg of the journey, we ditched our trolley and hopped on another, something that was very frowned upon by those who had originally chosen that particular trolley. This turned out to be the best trolley ride of all. It could have been the additional drinks we had at the bar or the fact that people were freely giving away beers trying to use up the last of their alcohol but we had a blast. In fact when the trolley reached the last bar we were a little sad to leave to it. Lessons learned here, definitely drink on the trolley and pick your trolley wisely by examining the crowd prior to boarding. In the end, I think I’m a land lover and would rather stumble my way from bar to bar at a leisurely pace instead of being trapped on a trolley and confined to a tight schedule.