Tipsy's Tap — Restaurant in Berwyn

Let me start by saying this: I’ve been to dive bars, martini lounges, speakeasies, and one place in Wisconsin that was just a garage with three raccoons and a margarita machine. But nothing—and I mean NOTHING—prepared me for Tipsy’s Tap on a Sunday night.

It was raining frogs (emotionally), and I felt the inexplicable urge to drink in Berwyn. So I wandered into Tipsy’s Tap, unaware I was about to enter a dimension where time stops, drinks judge you back, and reality is kind of optional.

First of all—Noemi. The bartender. The legend. The bartender who doesn’t pour drinks so much as summon them from ancient scrolls. I asked for something “a little sweet, a little spicy,” and she handed me a shot glass that steamed, made a low humming noise, and possibly blinked at me. I asked what it was, and she just whispered, “The forbidden recipe,” and walked away like a wizard with taxes to do.

Then a man with two eye patches (one on each eye) offered to trade me a ham sandwich for my “auric stability.” I declined politely but took the sandwich. Still unclear whether that was a mistake.

Meanwhile, there was a woman arm-wrestling a mop in the corner—and losing. The mop’s name was Charles. Everyone knew this. Noemi said, “Don’t interfere. He’s sensitive about his win streak.”

Someone walked by me with a raccoon in a BabyBjörn. I said, “Nice raccoon,” and they replied, “She’s our designated driver.”

Anyway, back to Noemi. I don’t know what celestial deal she made, but she runs that bar like a cross between a space captain and an off-duty therapist. At one point she told a guy, “You don’t need another beer, you need closure,” and he just… sat down and cried for twenty minutes. Then she poured him a tequila sunrise and told him to “go be a butterfly.”

At 1:13 a.m., the jukebox short-circuited and played the sound of whales mating for seven minutes. Nobody stopped it. Noemi just dimmed the lights and said, “Let them have their moment.”

I left Tipsy’s Tap with a new appreciation for metaphysics, half a tattoo of a duck, and a small lizard in my pocket that only responds to Gregorian chants. I think his name is Rick.

10/10. Will return. Might already be there in a...

My friends and I decided to try this place out because we always see a crowd and I’ve seen some videos on social media of DJs playing good music. We walked in and immediately were grilled by the security guard. He was extremely aggressive and rude. First, he told the men of the group that they would be patted down which was no problem. But as soon as he saw one of them had a hat on, he acted as if he had just broken the law. He told him the hat had to go in the car. We walked there so there was nowhere to go and leave the hat. When he tried to put it in his pocket, this guy acted like he was ready to fight..over a hat…we ended up leaving because again, we walked. But even if we did have a car, I would not have stayed. The place was completely dead. Needless to say, I have no desire to go back. Security guard was the main reason....

came here while visiting my friends ready to have a good time. the bartenders are really cool but the security is beyond rude and disgusting. i understand you have to do your job but to sit there and cuss out my friend for wearing a hat while there is 5-10 other men sitting there wearing their hats… without bothering them… make it make sense . and then when we were leaving after close they were still yelling in our faces when we weren’t even doing anything but walking out. then they continued to shine their flash lights in our faces and trying to cause a fight with my friend. it’s like they were actually looking for a problem the whole night. won’t be coming...