Too Talls Two

Once upon a time there was a bar where the drink glasses were almost “too tall” to be true. A place where the Long Islands were long, and the beer flowed like honey. This place was Too Talls. Decades ago, Too Talls had a fire, and was all but destroyed. The phoenix that rose from the ashes was dubbed Too Talls Two.

To those wayward souls who found themselves living in Kirksville, Missouri, this was a sanctuary. Many of us grew to love Too Talls Two. (In fact, someone showed me a blurb about it a couple of years ago in FHM, since the cover girl was from Kirksville. I don’t know, I hate magazines.)

Then, approximately 372 days ago, Too Talls suffered another fire and was shut down indefinitely. Apparently it was arson this time—by the hands of the owners, no less. Don’t quote me on that; it’s just my understanding of what happened. Since the fire, there seemed to be no hope that this bar would ever reopen, and it seemed that the past truly was the past.

At some point during the fall, Too Talls revamped and opened under new management. Rather than naming it Too Talls Three, however, it is now called Too Talls Two Inferno. After Christmas, I visited my old roommate and his wife, and we had the pleasure of spending time at Too Talls again, sharing drinks and memories.

The woody, three-tier space that is Too Talls is much the same as it was before. The fire damaged the wall on the far side of the bar, so most of the character and the decorum is the same (including the tacky old nude painting above the bar). That which is different, however, is not what I would consider to be an improvement.

First of all, the top level no longer sports its half-bench-half chair tables where I used to love to chill out with a larger group of friends. Instead, a brand new pool table sits up there now, with a few small tables in the corners. This makes sense from a marketing perspective; Too Talls was always the only of its peers to not have a single pool table. In my opinion, it never needed one. Too Talls was always the sit-down kind of bar.

The booths of the middle level no longer have booths. No, just tables now. That detracts a little from the variety of seating, which was always part of the charm of Too Talls. Every time you walk in, deciding on a table is always the hardest thing. You want to come back again and again, just to hang out at all the tables in the bar: the big tables on top, the booths and tables in the middle, and the high-rise tables and bar stools on the floor level. By the way, the two shoe-shining seats are still there, too.

The Golden Tee machine was temporarily removed to make a place for the Christmas tree, but I’m told they still have it. All of the old black-and-white photos of movie stars are gone, and the television sets have all been replaced by fewer, larger ones. Most of these changes are trivial and inconsequential (except for that stupid pool table desecrating the third tier, where most of my better memories took place). However, the real changes are not in the format of the appearance, but of the management.

Apparently, after a certain time, Too Talls Two “becomes” the Inferno. It’s more “hip,” whatever that means. I guess someone thought Kirksville’s only dance club, Toons, needed competition. Relax, there’s no room at Too Talls for dancing. But I don’t know exactly what the Inferno entails, since we were there in the dead of Christmas break, when other patrons were scarce. Whatever the Inferno is, it’s gotta be a step down from the Too Talls we all knew and loved.

The other thing is that Thursday is apparently Karaoke night. That… is not a good thing. Oh well, it can’t be much worse than the cover band that used to play there every Thursday night. At least Karaoke isn’t so loud you can’t hear your companions talking to you.

So that’s the scoop on the before and after. We sat there for some time, swapping memories and cherishing the fact that we could actually sit there once again. When I heard Too Talls had shut down, that was the most traumatic paradigm shift since the Enterprise D crashed. When I left Kirksville, I always thought Too Talls would be the ultimate place to reunite with friends. So when it had another fire… it was like the destruction of Alderaan.

But it lives on. Too Talls Two, where Dean and I would go almost every Thursday night for a couple rounds, after a hardcore karate session, to meet up with the posse. Unfortunately, by the time I showered after karate, it was always 11:00 before I got there, and Friday mornings were the mandatory master class for composition majors.

Too Talls Two, where Jake, Greg, and Josh were a team. Where they dubbed me “the Angel of Instigation.” Where I didn’t mind smelling like smoke for being there.

Too Talls Two, where the lulls between conversations were every bit as savory as the wildest banter. Where the International students would meet us for a taste of rural America. Where Dean would show up with an unlit, broken cigarette in his mouth, sporting a Tyler Durden-looking outfit, and “The Facts” were written on my arm. Hardwood chairs were never so comfortable. It was the best of times.

Too Talls Two, that cozy little woody place where the only thing better than going in to sit down was knowing you could do the same thing the next night.

I’m no lush. Too Talls wasn’t the place to drink until you passed out. It was a place to chill out with your friends after (or during) a rough week. It was a place to feel good about yourself. It was a haven, a sanctuary. It was a laid-back place where time stood still. A place where you were forever young.

And it still is.