The Goat

I was out with the apostles tonight (well, almost all apostles — sorry Tres), at the Billy Goat Tavern after work. And of course we came up with great ideas just by setting foot in that legendary spot.

The Goat is situated in a dark corner under Michigan Avenue, and it’s where Tribune reporters used to congregate late-night. Since then it’s been the source of humor for many an American, with the famous “Cheezborger, cheezborger, cheezborger” skit on Saturday Night Live.

And, no kidding, it’s exactly like that when you walk in. They yell at you, tell you that you have to have a double, then tell you “cheeps, no fries; Coke no Pepsi”. And then you get a great burger to chow on while you drink Old Style.

Too bad it’s not called “The Pig.” Then it would really be my kind of place. (And the Cubs would probably be winning, after ridding themselves of that damn goat curse.)

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