What it’s like to ride the Threes Bus for an entire night.
On April 21, I had the privilege of riding the Three’s Bus from 10 p.m. until roughly 1:13 a.m., after trying to get information out of the bartenders about what they have seen, to which most responded:
“Nothing I want to share with a magazine.” –The Three’s Bartending Staff.
“I forget.” –The more subtle Three’s Bartending Staff.
This is all coming from the bar that just a few weeks ago published a picture of a man passed out in the parking lot on their Instagram, which makes you wonder—what the hell are you guys doing inside of Threes that they aren’t telling us?
For those who don’t know, Threes is a bar located on High that came after the closing of Too’s. The owner, Scott Ellsworth carried on the tradition of Too’s by opening Three’s, hosting the same employees—from the bartenders to the live performers. Oh, and just to spice things up a bit, they added a bus that’ll pick you up and take you to Threes.
If you’ve ever had a considerate fuck buddy, you probably understand how the Threes Bus works:
- If you’ve ever had a considerate fuck buddy, you probably understand how the Three’s Bus works:
- You drunkenly slide into their DM’s saying you want to go to their place.
- They pick you up, maybe with other people already in the car to take you back.
- You get pretty fucked while there and have regrets, your biggest being that you know you’ll be back next weekend too.
- They do not intend for you to stay the night, but if you do, it’s at your own risk.
- They will sure as hell not drive you home afterwards.
- The only difference is that they let you use the aux cord.
Here is a recount of the entire night broken up by ride. I got to sit in the back of the bus with the action holding a large notebook and camera:
10 p.m.: Board the bus with driver, Andrew Savage
Stop 1: What is the threshold for kissing a man on the cheek?
Three of four of the guys in that group kissed Savage on their way into the bus. Later got word that Savage and the men who kissed him may not have quite been on kissing terms yet, which begs the question: what threshold must straight men cross to kiss other straight men on the cheek?
Stop 2: Why is half of the group wearing cut off jeans and flannel?
Half of the group were dudes wearing cut off jeans and flannel. One of them turned to me and asked, “Wait, were you at my house?” First time I was acknowledged.
Stop 3: Barstool Birthday Bash.
It is a 24-year-old’s birthday. She ripped her pants and got on Barstool. Her friends were doing lap dances to each other to the tune of “Birthday Sex.” A man spit in my face but truly didn’t see me.
Savage leaves the car and switches with Mitch Rausch.
Stop 5: Freaky Friday.
Not too much to see here, just the song “Freaky Friday” on repeat.
Stop 6: How many people can fit on this bus?
We missed an exit on the way to Brothers downtown. Eventually we found it and picked up group of six. Then three more. Then another group of about 15. Probably broke the weight capacity but the Three’s Bus don’t stop. It just keeps on rollin’.
Stop 7: If you wait (or leave your door open), they will come.
We parked outside of Midway—big mistake. A handful of drunk people stumbled in because bus door was open. Lesson: don’t park near bars with your door open, because people will enter.
Stop 8: Ellsworth and Company enter and are all very nice people.
You thought you were close with your manager when they sent you an emoji in their text last week. Ellsworth kissed Rausch on the head upon leaving the bus. This answers the question posed after Ride 1. Rethink your relationships. All of them.
Stop 9: THEY FINALLY NOTICE ME.
Finally confirmation that drunk people can see me. In a group of about 25 people, one man asked me what I was doing and then asked to be quoted. Here is the quote that ended the night that he chose to label: great insights from “a college student”:
“Ne-ne-na-na-na-na-ne-ne,”– a college student. Thank you, random drunk guy. That was inspiring.
It’s 1:13 a.m. and the ride ends. Is it too late to pop into Threes for a drink? Never.