The CrossRoads Bar & Grill

1/2 price apps w/ticket stub from United Center event! * (after event, 1 per table)

The fog hung low on the delta in the stifling hot summer night as a young man lagged down a desolate, dusty road just out side the town of Clarksdale Mississippi. In one hand he clasped an old guitar, in the other a weathered brown suitcase. As the witching hour descended, the man came to a crossroads. Weary from his journey the man sat for a while at the dark fork in the road and consumed himself with whiskey and the only tune he knew. As he strummed his guitar a shadowy figure emerged from the haze.

Hello old friend, you may not know me but I know you,
I am the Devil himself,
I know how to cure those blues.
Talent you need, fame and fortune too,
There is just one thing you have to do
Take this guitar and play on cue
And your soul I will claim when you are through.

As the man exchanged guitars with the stranger, his thirst for fame and fortune overwhelmed him. He began playing the guitar with a melodic improvisation that had never before been heard. The young man’s sweet music resonated over the southern bayous and clear on up to the big cities in the north faster than he could consume his bottles of whiskey.

Yet shortly after that fateful meeting at the crossroads, the young man suffered an agonizing death. Some say it was the moonshine, but most folks say it was the devil come to claim his soul. The young man’s unmarked grave is said to lie somewhere in Mississippi.

Legend has it that if a man finds himself at the crossroads of highway 61 and highway 49 outside Clarksdale, and if he plays his guitar just before midnight he too can sell his soul.