From Superman to the Blackhawks, Guinness and Getting Roasted at The Wiener’s Circle: One Wild St. Patrick’s Day in Chicago.

March 17th, 2026

There are easier ways to spend St. Patrick’s Day than waking up in Tennessee, driving hundreds of miles north and voluntarily ending the evening inside a hot dog stand where the employees are encouraged to verbally destroy you.

But easier rarely makes for a better story.

Our Chicago adventure began in Murfreesboro with a long stretch of interstate ahead of us and temperatures heading in the wrong direction. South Florida had been traded for a March day that would eventually dip into the teens, but Chicago was waiting, along with my buddy Tomas and a St. Patrick’s Day itinerary that became considerably more ambitious once we actually got there.

A Super Start at Metropolis

Before Chicago proper, the road trip took an appropriately ridiculous detour through Metropolis, Illinois, the small town that has fully embraced its connection to Superman.

The giant Superman statue is exactly the kind of roadside attraction that makes a road trip better. There is no complicated sales pitch needed. There is a gigantic Man of Steel standing in the middle of town. You stop. You take pictures. You contemplate why your hometown does not have a 15-foot superhero watching over city hall.

Metropolis leans all the way into the theme, with Superman imagery and memorabilia making the stop feel less like a random photo opportunity and more like a wonderfully weird piece of Americana.

Then it was back into the car.

Chicago awaited.

Hockey Night at the United Center

After finally reaching Chicago our first major destination was the United Center for a Blackhawks game.

For someone visiting Chicago, attending a game there offers something beyond simply checking another NHL arena off the list. The building is wrapped in Chicago sports history, from the championship banners overhead to the statues and reminders of the Bulls and Blackhawks teams that have made the arena famous.

The Blackhawks provided some drama of their own, taking the game into overtime. After spending most of the day sitting in a car, there are certainly worse ways to reacquaint yourself with circulation than jumping out of your seat during an NHL overtime game.

And because this was St. Patrick’s Day in Chicago, leaving the arena certainly did not mean the night was winding down.

Quite the opposite.

Going Green at Chief O’Neill’s

If you are going to visit an Irish pub on St. Patrick’s Day, subtlety seems like a terrible strategy.

Chief O’Neill’s Pub & Restaurant had apparently reached the same conclusion.

The place was practically glowing green.

Strings of lights covered the ceiling, shamrocks hung overhead and Irish decorations seemed to occupy nearly every available surface. The bar itself looked as if someone had turned the saturation slider to “Ireland.”

And then there was the live music.

With a band performing just feet away, drinks in hand and a room full of people still very much celebrating, this was the St. Patrick’s Day atmosphere we had driven all those miles to experience. It felt less manufactured than the massive party scenes associated with the holiday and more like being dropped into somebody’s neighborhood celebration.

The Guinness certainly didn’t hurt.

Neither did sharing the experience with my nephews Noah and Hunter, as the three of us squeezed in close to the stage while the band played behind us.

By this point, we had already driven across multiple states, posed with Superman, reached Chicago, gone to an NHL game and celebrated St. Patrick’s Day inside a packed Irish pub.

Clearly, the sensible thing was to go to bed.

We did not do that.

Please Insult Me with my Hot Dog

There are restaurants where employees are trained to make you feel welcome.

Then there is The Wiener’s Circle.

The legendary Chicago hot dog stand has spent decades turning verbal abuse into part of the dining experience, particularly when the late-night crowd arrives. The warning sign inside makes the arrangement perfectly clear: customers may be verbally abused at their own expense and for the staff’s amusement.

That is not fine print.

That is the attraction.

Walking inside feels like entering a hot dog stand, comedy club and HR department’s worst nightmare simultaneously. The walls are covered with photographs, stickers, handwritten insults and evidence of the countless people who have willingly stepped into the line of fire before you.

There is even photographic documentation of previous victims.

The Wiener’s Circle works because everybody understands the assignment. You order. They insult you. You probably say something stupid back. They come back with something significantly better. Everyone laughs.

And eventually somebody gives you food.

Our Chicago dog arrived loaded with the expected assortment of toppings, including tomato, pickle and sport peppers, creating a meal that somehow seemed almost wholesome compared with the conversation taking place around it.

It is vulgar. It is juvenile. It is wildly inappropriate.

It is also hysterical.

For anyone who believes customer service should always include a warm smile and polite greeting, this probably isn’t your place.

For anyone who can laugh at themselves, The Wiener’s Circle is one of those wonderfully bizarre Chicago experiences that becomes a story almost immediately.

When Chicago Finally Let Us Sleep

Somewhere well after midnight, we finally called it.

We had driven from Tennessee, made an unexpected Superman detour, watched the Blackhawks go to overtime, soaked up St. Patrick’s Day inside an Irish pub glowing radioactive green and voluntarily paid people to insult us while making hot dogs.

From there, it was finally back to the apartment building my buddy manages, where the accommodations came with considerably fewer amenities than a downtown Chicago hotel but one extremely important feature:

A place to collapse.

Even there, the green glow followed us, illuminating the old brick courtyard and wooden balconies as if Chicago still wasn’t quite ready to let St. Patrick’s Day end.

We were.

And somehow, this was only Day One in Chi-Town.

THE ROAD TRIP CONTINUES …