Man’s Country Chicago

It’s an old, run-​down facility with empty rooms and rude staff.
I checked in at 10:30PM on a Saturday night and left at 12:30am.
There’s no longer a sauna even! It had been three years since my last visit and this will be my last. As Chris C’s review from 5 months ago states it’s scarce pickings.

Let me make this short. After spending 90 minutes practically alone on the entire 1^st floor at 10 pm on a Friday night, I finally decided to hightail it out of there. As I make my way through the lobby, the towel troll was checking in a trio of WOMEN.
Nothing kills the nonexistent vibe of a gay bathhouse than women.
Avoid this cesspool at all costs.
Chicago officially has only one bathhouse now and it’s way overpriced and overrun by twinks to be worthwhile.

Unfortunately, a huge empty space nowadays, 3 huge floors but very few costumers. A brand new huge section cell style rooms, rooms with tvs, slings but no one to play with, when I used to go maybe 4 or 5 years ago it was packed more or less half black half white sometimes great looking white guys, now not even that I had great times in that place what happened? Where did everybody go?

If you are an overweight, 50-​something gay male, and you want to feel young, skinny, and beautiful then Troll Country is just for you!

I came in with no expectations. I didn’t realize this was a homosexual bath house until it was too late.
A man named Bryce removed his shorts in the hot tub and although I was impressed, I wasn’t quite sure what was going on lol. I made the mistake of bringing my Ipod in the tub and as soon as it hit the water — it stopped working.
It didn’t stop there, I saw my old high school teacher and he was getting a massage from a brawny looking man in his twenties. All in all I don’t think I’ll go back but I did have a fun time lol

OK Let’s get real. I think this might be the first review to mention that over half the clientele is Black or Latino, and if that is what turns you on then let me tell you the guys there are very HOT! The remainder are white leather men and bears. So if you are a suburban whitebread or yuppie type then this place will most likely put you outside your comfort zone. As for the troll factor, there are ALWAYS trolls at any bathhouse, so get over it. I’m no Adonis but I generally find what I’m looking for at Man’s Country and I find it very satisfying. By the way, when they give you your sheets at check-​in and you complain about getting bugs that says more about who you choose to have sex with than the place itself. And there is ALWAYS the risk of catching cooties at any bathhouse. It would be nice if there was lockable storage in the rooms so if you bring your valuables to your room then be sure to lock the door behind you when you step out True, the place does look a bit dingy and seedy but I should also mention Man’s Country is the most affordable bathhouse in Chicago. Man’s Country is to Steamworks as Joe’s Greasy Spoon Diner is to McDonalds. This place is a gay Chicago icon and I would hate to see it gone.

OMG… like John B… I made a really bad decision to check out Man’s Country.
Well, it may be Man’s Country… but he doesn’t visit very often. It’s more like Trollville.
I had a room downstairs. The room is decent size, but no lockable storage. The humidity had to be 110% as the carpet and most surfaces were moist. I hope it was the humidity at least. The air was so hot and humid it was hard to breathe. Or… it could be the stench of very stale poppers that made it hard to breathe. Nasty. The kind of stench that doesn’t leave you for a few days.
The guys here were 99% troll. The 1 or 2 that weren’t were VERY popular. The trolls won’t canibalize their own. they only go after non-​troll meat. That’s just sad.
The entire place looks just like a really nice club from the 70’s that sat abandoned and was torn up by homeless people for 20 years. That may be more true than I realize.
I couldn’t bring myself to go anywhere near the whirlpool. The clorine, while a welcome relief from the old, nasty popper stench was just too overpowering and it made me wonder what they were trying to eradicate. I had also heard that scat happens in the «wet» area…
I gave it a try, walked around a bit… and I’m very open minded (I did, after-​all go there in the first place) BUT it was too much. WAY too much.
If you are looking for research projects for your PhD in microbiology then head on over. If you are anything else. except for a nasty, old, popper loving troll… stay home and take care of things yourself. You know it’s always better anyway.

Oh lord, am I really writing a review of Man’s Country. Have I really fallen so far?
In a word: yes.
To start, Man’s Country is a gay bathhouse. Men go there to have sex. End of story. There’s no Better Midler to-​be entertaining men in towels. Oh, there are strip shows on weekends, but those are merely entertainments that precede or follow men having sex. Or sometimes happen simultaneously.
I live around the corner from Man’s Country, but have not been there since I’ve lived here. Which doesn’t mean I’ve never been there. I was never a regular, but I have my (lifetime) membership. But I hadn’t been there for eons. Until recently.
A few months ago, after a long night of drinking, I found myself outside Man’s Country. I had just bundled my friend into a taxi after closing The Eagle, which is next door. And I wasn’t done making poor decisions for the night.
You enter Man’s Country through an airlock designed to separate the tawdriness within from the naïve world without. Or vice versa. Behind the (bulletproof?) glass are orange jumpsuited attendants who check you in. Is the similarity to prison coincidental? You be the judge. Man’s Country is a private club, which I guess provides protection from a slew of indecency laws, so you need to be a member to enter. Membership is 10 bucks, and has been since I first «joined» about 20 years ago. Membership lasts a lifetime, which, if you visit regularly, may be perilously brief. The entrance fee varies, depending on whether you’re renting a locker, a small room, a large room, or a «fantasy» room. This ain’t The Sybaris — «fantasy» relates to a variety of S&M accoutrements. You receive a key (to your room or locker) on an elastic strap, a well-​worn towel, and if you have rented a room, shreds of cotton that pass for a sheet and pillowcase. Are you in the mood yet? You are also offered the opportunity to check your valuables. Check your valuables. I am not saying that «Man’s Country» is a synonym for «Den of Thieves.» But check your valuables.
Then you go to your room or locker, strip down, stow your stuff, wrap the towel around your waist and elastic band around your wrist, and you’re off to the races.
There are three levels to Man’s Country. That’s right — this is a superstore. The main level has the locker room, some private rooms, and a video room. Upstairs is a maze of more private rooms, another small video room, and the large showroom, where the strippers live. When there is not a show, the TV screens show porn (as they do in the video rooms, of course), and men have sex. On the floor, on the stage, on the seating area. The private rooms are fitted with lights on dimmers, so the occupant can show you as much or little as they like. Don’t expect the lights to be up — these guys aren’t beauty queens. The men are generally lying on their backs or stomachs, depending on what they expect you to do to them. You do the math.
What struck me on my recent visit was the number of guys wandering around mostly or fully dressed. This says one of two things to me: 1) hustler, or 2) thief. Because after I steal your stuff, I don’t want to take time to get dressed before I book. The other thing was what a horrible state of disrepair everything was in. There’s nothing wrong with Man’s Country that a good fire couldn’t solve. Short of that, they need to hose the place down from top to bottom, soak it in bleach, and maybe bring in an exorcist or two. Man’s Country is open 364 days a year, and it shows.
The lower level is the «wet» area, featuring a steam room and tub. I expect there are bacteria in the tub big enough to knock you down and take your wallet. As for the steam room… Old men + dirty men + sexual activity + steam =? You fill in the blank.
My last time at Man’s Country was probably my last time at Man’s Country. There’s nothing there for me, unless you count gonorrhea.