lyndsey F.
Yelp
I wanted to make the 100th a good one, and I cannot believe that I have never review the glinch. I can only try to do it justice through the hazy gaze of my sly fox soaked brain.
Most of my friends have always been older than me, and if you have read any of my previous reviews, you know that I started frequenting some of the grosser bars in Philadelphia when I was just a baby (Actually! see reivew for Pub & Kitchen). However, McGlincheys was where I really learned how to drink.
I used to come here after work at 6 and stay until last call at 2 am, never spending more than 20 dollars on all the lager and hot dogs my stomach could handle. I loved the dirty boys, the mean waitresses, the smoke, and of course, the jukebox. I loved the feeling of getting away with something that obviously I shouldn't be doing. I loved it all.
We always had the same waitress, Bernadette, who is no longer with the team. She was mean and crazy, but we loved her. I mean, she brought us lager and hot dogs, and cleared our ashtrays after just about each butt went out. We never put up a fuss, so she was always civil to us, although I have seen some crazy action from the waitresses there.
Which brings me to the next reason that I love McGlinchey's. For me, it is a family institution. My 96 year old Grandmother used to come here for drinks when she was teaching at UArts (PCA when she was teaching) with my grandfather and their friends (she says it wasn't as divey or smokey back then, I say Embrace it, Grandma). My parents used to come here when they were young advertisers living at the Sprucemont (based on my parents stories, apparently the glinch is a little more tame now than it was in the early to mid 80s, but then again what isn't?). I used to drink here underage, play radiohead song after radiohead song on the jukebox and long to be the girlfriend of one of the smelly, bearded boys at the bar with calf tattoos and ratty messenger bags. AND NOW, for the shiny glory of the Fox/Weiner family, my sister works here. That's right folks, A Fox at the Glinch.
Last night when I brought two buddies from the burbs here (one is moving out west and wants to hit all of the Philly landmarks), my sister waited on us. And we could smoke. And radiohead was on the jukebox.
I was wearing a new KJL tiger crystal bracelet, and I felt like a lady, so I refrained from eating a hot dog. And instead of yuengling, we were drinking sly fox because now we are adults. And sometimes adults go out on school nights and drink too much beer and smoke too many cigarettes and listen to too much radiohead. But aside from being able to eat dessert for dinner, that's really the best part about growing up, isn't it?
TTFN.