Message in a bottle

Sidetrack’s rectangular bar sits in the center of an airy, loftlike room known as the “glass bar.” A crowd of guys can usually be found there with cocktails in hand and necks craned in the direction of one of the many TV screens showing music videos. Hovering above the bar like a halo, a giant, suspended glass shelf displays more than 120 bottles of 10 Cane Rum, backlit to give off an ethereal glow. Why does this booze get such prominent placement? It’s not just because the bottles look cool—the liquor company behind 10 Cane earned this display at Sidetrack (3349 N Halsted St, 773-477-9189) because it demonstrated a commitment to LGBT causes.

The Boystown bar’s mutually beneficial relationship with liquor companies started back in the early ’80s, when Sidetrack was just an unmarked storefront on Halsted Street. A mysterious new cancer had crept into the gay community, and when one of the bar’s softball players became ill, Sidetrack’s owners decided to host a fund-raiser. “We didn’t know what [HIV] was at the time, and we were trying to help him pay his bills,” says co-owner Chuck Hyde. “The local beer driver offered a few cases to help us, and that grew into a very strong relationship with our beer company [Miller].”

Twenty-six years later, Sidetrack is at the forefront of LGBT bars using the coveted gay dollar as a bargaining chip to get liquor companies to donate alcohol and funds to LGBT initiatives. In fact, the Sidetrack owners say all alcohol brands featured in the bar have some degree of commitment to the community. Usually this pledge is maintained through initiatives worked out by a brand’s owner (and separate marketing firms). Cuervo and its parent company, Diageo, for example, might agree to provide the tequila at an Equality Illinois event. In exchange, the brand gets exposure.

This is not to say liquor companies always “get” the gay community. Hyde has sat down with many marketing execs over the years to explain what it means to be a queer ally. “People come to us and want to introduce a new product,” Hyde says. “I have to sit down and explain to them how the community works. We call it ‘the talk.’ ” Case in point: When a beer company drops off promotional tees for an event and they’re all marked XL, it’s Hyde’s job to explain that most gay guys don’t wear baggy clothing.

Another misstep involved a vodka company (whose name Hyde won’t disclose) that enjoyed huge profits ten years ago as an ingredient in Sidetrack’s famous slushies, with a portion of proceeds from every drink benefiting an LGBT cause. But when the brand was sold to a different company, it chose to yank the benefit promotion, so Sidetrack nixed the agreement. “It was the shot heard around the world in the liquor community, because [the vodka company’s] sales went to zero,” Hyde says. “We have a choice of what we can sell, so we made a choice to make another brand a part of that ingredient in that drink, and their sales went through the roof.”

Other queer bars have taken part in similar programs. At Uptown sports bar Crew (4804 N Broadway, 773-784-2739), a promotion might come in the form of sponsorship of one of its many athletic teams. Miller provides T-shirts for the Crew Lightning, a local queer softball team, and offers discounted beer to teammates at Crew after the game. “You’re driving people to drink your brand,” says Crew co-owner Steven Milford. “Once [a liquor company has] a good customer, they’ve got one for life if they treat them well.”

That loyalty, of course, is the endgame, and bar owners are aware that a liquor company’s support of LGBT causes is driven by dollar signs. “They’re in it to make more money, don’t get me wrong,” Milford says. “But they’ve all been very supportive.” This relationship has even translated to liquor companies offering their own promotional ideas with a queer twist. “Miller approached us with the success of [our] Project Runway [night],” Milford says. “They wanted us to do a male-underwear-model runway show because they had this intern who made underwear. This was their idea. It was the craziest thing. Ten years ago, [companies] weren’t going around putting together male-underwear-model shows for gay bars.”