Ever been in a situation where you weren't sure if a guy was going to slug you or hug you?

Last night I stop by Christina's Place, walk to the only open spot on the bar and try to flag down the bartender for a beer--no luck. In front of me is a pile of one dollar bills that belong to a bear of a man to my left. He has short hair, thick arms, and small, slightly crossed eyes.

The bear turns to me and says, "Hey buddy, what are you doing here?"

I resist the urge to run.

"Just grabbing a beer," I tell him, trying to keep my voice from cracking. I reach out to grab his paw, bracing myself for a crushing handshake. But he plays nice--so far this bear ain't so bad.

I introduce myself as Jonathan.

"Nice to meet you, Joe," growls the beer, and within two minutes he's talking about his ex-wife, about how crazy she is. He introduces me to his friend, a Paul Bunyan-sized fellow who paints lines in parking lots for a living. It's for him they invented the phrase "barrel-chested."

The two walk off to talk privately for a minute, but through the din I can still hear them. One offers the other five bucks to knock someone out. A joke, I think.

I exchange wary looks with two guys to my right. They've been watching Bunyan and the bear drain beers all night. One of them advises me (and I'm not kiddding): "Don't make any sudden movements. If he starts swiping at you, play dead."

Fast forward an hour later, and I've laughing and drinking with the sweetest bear in the world. He married a woman with three cubs, he tells me. Raised them as his own. He adopted the cub of a dying friend. He considers violence the lowest form of expression.

He breaks down the needs of man as follows: 1) To love, 2) to be loved and 3) to have something to fix--like a car or something.

I leave Christina's enlightened, elated and, most importantly, uninjured.

Is it too soon to try another pubcrawl? I propose a Logan Square exploration, as you seem to know a fair bit about that area.
Are you game?

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