"Welcome to Max's Place: Where Friends Meet Friends!" So says the sign in front of Max's, and so it is true. To be honest, from the outside, Max's Place doesn't look like the type of bar you'd ever want to make friends at. Enemies, sure, but friends? Then you walk inside and—well—it still looks pretty darn rundown. The walls, floors, bar and more are all made of dark, old wood, like a mad woodsman's hunting lodge. There's even a pair of bull's horns, front and center, five feet above the bar, and hanging antique lanterns strategically placed, to further capture that rural atmosphere.

But there's something kind of cozy, too, about this bar, with an old jukebox (unfortunately playing Nickelback all night long) near the front and an even older dartboard in the back that sounds like R2-D2—something that's harder to explain than it is to experience. The customers all seem to know each other and, dare we say it, even like each other, not unlike a low-rent version of the cast of Cheers. Erica, the barmaid, keeps them constantly content with her continual smile and ever-helpful attitude and service. Miller Lite, MGD and Miller High Life are all $2.50. Six packs of cans for carry-out cost $5.50 and bottles (all kinds) cost a dollar more.

The sign outside also says that Max's Place is 'the place' to come to watch Bulls, Bears, Cubs and White Sox games, but one wonders if the tiny TV in the far right corner of the bar or the slightly bigger but still tiny TV in the opposite corner are big enough to do so. If not, maybe somebody will lend you their binoculars or their portable hi-def television. After all, what are friends for?

Centerstage Reviewer: Benjamin Andrew Moore