Last week, on a whim, a couple of us went into O'Ryan's Pub, an Irish bar across the street from Port in a Storm.
From the outside, we couldn't tell if it was open or closed. I pulled the metal handle on the front door, but it didn't open. Then I realized I had to turn the knob and then pull the handle. Tricky, that.
Inside, O'Ryan's was unexpectedly large, with a higher-than-normal ceiling and a tiled floor.
Advertisement
The bartender, a pleasant, pleasantly plump fellow, cheerfully served us a few Bud Light bottles, which cost about $2 each.
There were only a handful of other people in the bar -- probably because most of the regulars were at the Polish Festival, the bartender said.
Advertisement
I decided to do a little snooping, which is when I discovered the freaky side room ...
It's another whole rowhouse, from the looks of it, with a long, deserted counter and piles of random stuff. It was deadly quiet, with the only noise coming from a flickering light inside a cooler.
Bzzt. Zzzt. Bzzt. Zzzt.
I suddenly got the feeling I was in a horror movie. I hoped like heck I was one of the main characters -- too important to die, you know. But I felt like I was probably one of the movie's first victims.
I could see the headlines in the next day's newspaper:
Veteran bar blogger and D-list local celebrity Sam Sessa disappears in Highlandtown/Greektown bar. His last drink? A bottle of Bud Light.