Annie’s Place

We stopped in on a cold winter’s night, wanting to explore the watering holes near our house. As we stepped inside, everyone turned to look at us. Since we are stunningly gorgeous examples of human beings, we have come to accept this, as it occurs with regularity any time we enter someplace new to us. After getting a gander at us, everyone turned back to what they were doing and then proceeded to basically, either ignore us or grunt at us. The bartender was a little gruff while taking our order, but finally approached us 10 minutes after being served to make small talk. We learned that he was Patrick and his mom, Annie, owned the place. While it was apparent that he had been imbibing throughout the night, he was coherent and intelligible conversation ensued. As we were preparing to leave, he bid us a good night. This last bit of interaction is why Annie’s gets two stars instead of one.
The patrons at this bar, whether new or regulars, were somewhat rude and unfriendly. No one offered to move over one seat so that we could sit together, so my husband gave me the seat while he stood. He tried to make small talk with a guy around our age, only to be met with the aforementioned grunt. The group of women sitting and standing next to me at the bar totally ignored him as he was making it apparent that he was trying to get closer to me, and actually, blocked him somewhat, not even making an attempt to move.
The décor? Well, unless I’m HIGHLY offended by it, it is not the basis of my decision of whether to spend any time in an establishment or not. Annie’s has an odd mix of Little Orphan Annie dolls hanging from the ceiling, other LOA memorabilia and Elvis. Because it was winter, there were snowmen everywhere, too. Country is apparently the music of choice. Annie, Elvis, country. Odd, odd, odd. There is a pool table and video gaming machines, if that’s your thing, but not much room to play pool. Playing the gaming machines means that you are sitting away from the bar with little interaction from others.
I might try Annie’s again once the weather gets nice, but the place definitely did not make a good impression on me for my first visit. Drinkers beware!
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I was recently «banned» from Annie’s for life because I played a Kanye West song on the jukebox. Figure that one out.
I have no grudge or any ill-​will toward the business, but the bar it seems does not appreciate their business from frequent customers. The bar has had recent problems with fights and so on, so I don’t know if they’re trying to «shoo away» younger customers or if they have other reasons.

Have been coming here every Saturday night for some good cheap drinks and entertainment. Pat the bartender is ready to make whatever drink you want and he is always quick with a good joke.

A little while ago I was really down on myself and depressed over losing a long time lover and long time job over an incident at a nearby applebees. I was really hoping for something to lift my spirits so I left Chicago and went back to my hometown in Milwaukee County, Wisconsin.
One day I was scouring the streets of Hales Corners for any sort of motivation or keys for where my life will lead me next when I stumbled upon a real mysterious and musty looking house that had the name «annie’s place» on a sign. I was pretty sure this was one of those psychic houses so I decided to step inside.
When I walked in there were really creepy dolls hanging from the ceiling, an old lady sitting down and dogs running around, so I was still convinced that was an old cook’s psychic house. Then I saw the taps on the counter and realized that this was some guy’s sick joke of a bar. I asked myself, what sane man would walk into a bar with dogs running around and creepy dolls everywhere? Don’t we go to the bar to get AWAY from our wife’s terrible decisions?
So I sat down and asked the bartender if this was really a bar or if the 3 taps labeled with terrible beer were just props to help give off some sort of psychic energy. The bartender, already drunk as hell at 9pm (probably the only way he can stand it) looks at me funny and says that it is a bar and almost trips and falls.
I look around the bar and see a few old people, a 20 something guy stumbling around and trying to talk to women, and two guys playing pool. I look behind me a bit and see a cramped game room with a hopeless middle aged man playing penny slots and looking like he’s secretly hoping the machine falls on him so he can end his misery. There’s a dart board back there too but that thing hasn’t gotten used in years. There’s a sink in the middle of the bar so I go to check the bathroom out because that is odd to me. It is literally a hole in the wall with a toilet and an urinal right next to each other, making the bathroom utterly useless, like this entire place.
At this point, I honestly thought I killed myself last night and forgot about it and was in hell and awaiting the devil’s punishment. This place is not what God intended when he created well… anything. This place goes against all morals and everything of what a bar is supposed to be and it honestly made me feel like less of a man just stepping foot in there.
So I use the bathroom then think, what the heck, I’m in hell, might as well have a drink right? So I go up to the stumbling bartender and ask what the drink prices are. He says, 5 dollar pitchers and 2.50 mixed drinks. I’m like alright, at least they are cheap. I order a pitcher of miller lite and start drinking it. This 50 year old lady with bad teeth and clothes from the 80’s tries talking to me while the soul crushing sounds of mainstream country music blare out the speakers. I cough profusely to get rid of the lady trying to talk to me and finish my pitcher in 5 minutes and dart out of there before I end up killing myself. And no, I did not tip, I don’t think the bartender was even coherent enough to think about a tip anyway.
I walked outside, briefly thought about the moment I just experienced and continued on my self realization journey. Only by God’s will though, this place literally killed any motivation I had to live, breathe, eat, sleep, anything. The fact that a real human man, like me, created such a grotesque and hell like place almost made me jump in front of oncoming traffic right there. Long story short though, I did end up making it back to good health, mentally and physically, but hell on earth, aka annie’s place, almost ended it for me.
In short, this place is not only the worst bar in the world, it is by far the worst place on the entire planet and should be demolished for completely bastardizing and destroying what a bar should be. Bars are supposed to be a man’s haven from their wife/​life in general or a woman’s haven from their husband/​life in general. This place just makes you realize how far you’ve fallen in life when you’re sitting on the cold hard chairs and dodging out of the way of the malnourished dogs, at annie’s place. Lord help us.