It took about three seconds after walking in the door at Jonell’s to realize that this was exactly the spot we were looking for.  Named so because it sits on the corner of Jones and Ellis, Jonell’s is the type of fine establishment where sitting with your back to the door might be the last bad decision you ever make.  The patrons are generally drunk and leery old men who piss away all their money on booze and hookers, but the vibe is actually far from inhospitable.  In fact, if you sit down at the bar, expect to get an earful of some the most fucked-up stories you’ve ever heard.

This place has been serving drinks for at least 50 to 70 years and used to go by the name of the Horseshoe because of the shape of the bar (real original). It has loads of horse memorabilia from its supposed golden age and not much else. There are two non-functioning bar-sinks however.

A friendly but worn-looking Samoan face approached us smiling and asked, “What’ll it be guys?”

“Hi,” I smiled back, “can we get a couple of Budweisers please?”

“Sure honey, I’ll be right back.”  As she walked away a man pushed through the door with the force of a house ripped from the ground and blown to Oz. The bar was pretty empty, but I knew he’d land right next to me. They always do. This one’s name was Mike.

The man said a round of hellos.  “Hey Suzy, hey Ricky,” he greeted the couple who ran the bar.  Then he greeted the only other people in the bar besides me and Kenny, a fat white guy who appeared to be completely catatonic, and an old black guy in a straw fedora. “Hey Fred, hey Willis. Oh man I just came from this huge fucking party where there was all this free food and free booze, and Jesus, shit man, you shoulda seen all the pussy in this place. This guy I know jus’ opened this Cuban restaurant and tonight was the opening party.  It was beautiful, my buddy really went all out, and the food, oh the food!” Then, glancing over at us, “Ha! Shit, man, the women in there were so hot they wouldn’ta even fucked me when I was you’re age. How old are ya, 21, 22?  What are young bloods like you doing in here anyways?”

Suzy the bartender dropped off two Buds for Kenny and I, and a glass of whiskey for Mike. “Thanks, Suzy. How’d ya know what I wanted?”

“Cuz you get the same damn drink every night,” Suzy answered smilingly. Mike looked like his 50 or 60 years on this Earth had been rough; you could tell he’d definitely been around the block a few times. But he was jolly in his roughness, and he was energetic and also pretty tubby. He kinda reminded me of a grown-up, bearded version of Chunk from The Goonies. I got the feeling that Mike was a good guy, just a little overzealous.

“The best bar in the world is just a few blocks from here,” he told us. “You ever heard of the Brown Jug over on Eddy and Hyde?  Best bar in the world.  My old lady’s been working there for 22 years.  Beautiful American Indian broad; we been married 30 years, can you believe that? Man, they got some nice atmosphere in there and a great jukebox and boy, my old lady can really pour a drink. Take my advice. Go in there and ask for Shelley.  Tell her I sent you and tell her that I send my love.” Continued…

Have a bar story to share? Write or upload it here.