It bears repeating that the 22nd...

It bears repeating that the 22nd Ave. Station and BJ’s are, in many ways, twins. They are neighborhood, working-class bars with an exotic dancer service attached to it, and they do not have cover charges. While those are huge similarities, that’s where they end. Separated by less than two miles, they sit on opposite sides of the Mississippi River, and even though it’s not as bad as it’s made out to be, when you cross the bridge from North Minneapolis to the Northeast Arts District, it’s like night and day.

BJ’s has maintained its hardscrabble, somewhat dangerous roots because it straddles the city and the poor streets just outside it. Meanwhile, the Double Deuce is tucked far away from the highway and at least gives the appearance that it’s in a good area. These days, the gentrification of the neighborhood is reflected in the popularity of the bar. And as a huge fan of BJ’s leave-me-alone attitude, I continue to not like how 22nd has become a stripclub for hipsters.

Drunk, rowdy and cheap twentysomethings have been here nearly every single one of the (admittedly scattered) visits I make. Not only do they crowd out the seats onstage, they oftentimes take the attention of the girls, almost universally girl-next-door cute, from the hardcore stripper hounds that want small chit-chat. I remember the days when this bar was for Nordeasters sporting negative body language; this scene is such a problem for me because I’m sentimental for those times.