For many years, the couch in the pool-table room at Empty Bottle served as the Big Kahuna of Chicago’s bar couches, offering unmatched people-watching and a welcome rest for sore legs. Unfortunately, one too many vomit-related accidents probably had something to do with it being replaced by a wooden bench. Now, The Owl’s coveted couch reigns supreme due to its prime real estate near the dance floor. On slower weeknights, it offers a modicum of privacy, and on rowdy weekends, it provides the perfect vantage point for witnessing twentyishes attempt dance moves that look like someone performing sexual gymnastics in the back of an ice cream truck.
