JoNo’s Place

A metrosexual guy walks into a small Midwestern bar where everyone knows each other…
No, it’s not the beginning of a joke, it’s how I began things at the legendary (in Centralia) JoNo’s. They could tell instantly I was from outside their town, especially when I inquired about the beer selection and ordered a Heine in a bottle. There were no imports on draft and everyone else in the place was chugging Bud (I can’t stand the stuff).
It’s dive-​ish but not true dive, it’s just been there a long time apparently. The staff became warmer the more beers I bought and since I was in town for a five days I wound up coming back three nights in a row. I even left with an official JoNo’s tee shirt (in XL, no mediums in stock) and tried their food which wasn’t half bad. I’ll take a tiny-​town bar in Central Illinois over one in the Deep South any day of the week. Here’s to you JoNo’s, who knows if we’ll ever meet again.