No Name Pub

This place is a dive with alot of loud drunks. This place is full of the sterotypical drunks that frequest these dive bars and there were many who seemed unaware of the smoking ban that has been in affect the past four years. This place also had confederate flags all over the place and I wonder if someone should remind them how far North of the mason and dixon line their little bar is located. The bathrooms were atrocious and looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in about a month. A place like this gives bars a bad name.

No Name Pub… I had high hopes for you since I live two blocks away; instead you disappointed me so.
Read the other two reviews and thought I would walk over on a Saturday night at 10pm with two friends. Upon walking in the first thing you’ll notice is that the owners of the No Name Pub didn’t get the ‘no smoking ban notice’ like the rest of llinois… okay, cool whatever you’re all real badass smoking in-​doors.
Secondly although there were some open spots at the bar, and my friend was leaning in, and then waiving a $ 20…the bartender wandered around in front of us like a blind man, stopped to shoot the shit five feet away, and then went down to the end of he bar to do a shot. All we wanted was three beers; I swear. Just serve us three beers.
Note: We did not stick out like sore thumbs either… we looked very similar to the customers already there… not like they were all wearing sox hats and we were rockin’ cubs hat… so we were not being ignored because we were ‘different’.
I say any place where you have to work that hard to get a dude missing his front teeth at the ripe old age of 30 to serve you a beer, like in the first half hour on a slow Saturday, is not the place for me.
Also…incredibly loud & whiny Alice in Chains on the jukebox… I think someone played the whole album. Not a plus.

When you’re driving south on Harlem Ave., once you get south of Ogden toward I-​55, you feel like you’re entering another world. It’s REAL untouched blue class Chicago; a place where a Lincoln Parker would fear and dread because there aren’t chain restaurants and Whole Foods on every corner. It’s as though you either are entering a time warp or are teleported to now-​rural Wisconsin or Michigan or even Illinois, yet it’s still completely Urban (if that makes sense). Welcome to Garfield Ridge!
There is a totally retro Roller Skating rink at Harlem/​Archer, a family owned Weber Bakery, Bobak’s Sausage Co., Villa Rosa Pizzaria, Jim & Frank’s Sausage Co., and north of I-​55 are two roadside bars next to each other… Forest View Lounge and the No Name Pub.
Now, if you don’t drive a Harley, you might be intimidated by the looks of No Name Pub if you’re not a rough ‘n tumble type of person. There’s even a sign out front that says «Bikers Welcome». But, we were adventuring on Sunday afternoon so we stopped in to catch the 2^nd half of the Bears debacle and were greeted with a warm Southern welcome by Dennis the bartender. It is a clean bar, two pool tables, free steamed Polish Sausages for grub during the game, and cold $ 2 muthafuckin’ draft beers!
If you can get by the confederate flags hanging above the bar and the spastic Scottish Terrier running around (I swear, he’s the manager), you’ll like this place. It didn’t reek of hillbilly fights and bad B.O. as you might think when driving by. It’s a true Rural-​like Oasis in an Urban area. We’ll definitely be back… on horseback though.

I thought for sure our bartender’s name would be Mike. John L. thought for sure the bartender would be an «Ed.» But he was Dennis. Simple, trustworthy, friendly Dennis.
«Dennis,» I asked, «Have you ever walked into a place and knew instantly that you loved it?»
Dennis nodded, smiled and pointed his finger down to the floor. «Yep. This one.»
I guess this place has the same effect on everyone. Who knew that bras as decorations would have a homey feel the way they were carefully festooned behind the bar? Though the bar itself is «nameless» and perhaps daunting from the outside and situated across the street from a dark and deserted forest preserve just blocks from the highway, who knew that you would find such a welcoming, clean, friendly place to have a beer (clean taps!) and free food during the games? They have a couple of pool tables, too, should you want to shoot a game or few.
They serve Vampire and Werewolf wines (not just for the season I’ve been told) and English Hobgoblin Ale, which seemed to tickle me pink.
But the best thing about the pub is the little Scottish Terrier running back and forth making sure the bar ran smoothly. He even stood in front of the door in protest as we tried to leave. «Stay and have another beer!» he barked. It was clear he was not just the bar dog. He was very much a part of the way things ran.