Fat Abbey's Bier Cafe

It is early Saturday evening in Milwaukee and we meet our friends L. and M. at the Fat Abbey Bier Café, 134 E Juneau, at Juneau and the river. Fat Abbey’s is a new Irish bar across from a triumvirate of Irish bars, both across from the Milwaukee landmark, The Harp.

We will run into two bachelorette parties on this warm August night.

The first batch of girls—a sedate, sober group with some moms along for the ride—are sitting at a long wooden picnic table on the patio. We sit outside under a Delirium Tremens umbrella at first, but the sun is still hot so we move inside.

We all drank beers, even me. Fat Abbey’s has a beer list to be proud of. Trocadero White, a local microbrew, is tasty—wheaty like I like. Gene, M and L tried several, one called Fat Tire and another, Maredsous.

Now the moms have left and the Fat Abbey girls move inside. They liven up a bit, but this party has little steam.

We cross the street to the trinity of Irish bars, inspecting them all before selecting Foy. We sit in a tall wooden booth and share corned beef nachos and a veggie-hummus platter. I remember this weekend is Irish Fest in Milwaukee, the largest and best Irish festival in the United States. I wonder why all these new Irish bars are opening in this very German town. Love of beer must be the unifying factor.

From the window of L and M’s car, we see the second bachelorette party. These girls know how to party. They traipse down the street, all wearing little black cocktail dresses. They have made several stops already tonight. Gene asks me if girls wear underwear in Milwaukee and I assure him that most of them do. What prompts the question, I ask.

We end the night at The Pfister’s top floor bar, Blu, on the 23^rd floor of the hotel. Stunning 360 views of the city, but we can’t find a seat around the perimeter of the room. We sit at the bar and listen to the jazz combo. I wonder about two women sitting at the bar, overdressed and bored.