On a bustling Friday night, my date and I arrived at one of Chicago’s most popular and zeitgeisty pizza restaurants and made a beeline for the last two seats at the bar. I groped in vain for the hook for my fanny pack under the marble counter. I gasped loudly and hung the bag on the edge of my knees, but it slipped. The rest of the meal was a game of Tetris, with bags, drinking vessels and plates constantly shifting places, trying not to cross the invisible line that separated my space from the restaurant next to it. After all, there are unspoken rules in bars.
Installing some under-bar hooks seems like a low-lift design choice for a restaurant, bar, or cafe. So why do bag carriers so often find us hanging them from our own appendages—or worse, leaving them in the dark, sticky area between the foot bar and the wall?
Maybe the owner doesn’t like the look of them, or is worried that overstuffed purses and backpacks will tear them apart. Nicole Alexander, principal designer and founder of interior design firm Siren Betty Design, refutes the structural theory.
“There’s no reason other than aesthetics or the hook was forgotten,” she said. I wonder if any such absent-minded owner ever thought of himself as female; Alexander does not indulge me.
Are bar hooks more popular in colder places than in warmer ones? In Chicago, it makes sense to expect under-the-counter hooks—our terrible winters require scarves and thermal layers—but I was dramatic when I couldn’t find one. In January 2019, Urban Forage Winery in North Minneapolis even reminded customers of its “subtle” but “strong” under-bar coat and bag hooks in a blog post on its website.
In response to an informal poll I conducted via social media, a beverage industry publicist in New York agreed that it’s even more noticeable when the city’s bars and restaurants aren’t linked. New Yorkers even expect cell phone charging outlets under the counters, he said. (Priorities!) A marketing manager in balmy Raleigh, North Carolina, says she never has trouble finding under-the-counter hooks. Likewise, a travel writer living in hot, bustling Miami praised the popularity of bar bars. (They also noticed another hospitality trend emerging in luxury restaurants, placing tote baskets under seats.)
So much for my regional theory.
A Brooklyn filmmaker and producer observed that new joints seemed more likely to have hooks than older ones; some New Orleans residents agreed. One person added that hooks were particularly rare in the touristy French Quarter, where customers tend to be “more disorganized” and more likely to forget to put their bags on hooks under the bar.
Some places, such as cafes, may intentionally leave off hooks to prevent customers from lingering – like posting a “no laptops” sign on the door. Is this trendy hookless pizza joint trying to tell me something?
I slung the bag over my knees again to make room on the bar, but it fell off. As I reached for it, my arm inadvertently brushed against my neighbor’s outer thigh, breaking the biggest unspoken rule of bar seating. I think I should start carrying a portable wallet hook with me. I hope I have enough space in my bag.
