Mike Headrick was the first person I ever met in St. Louis. He was bartending at Llywelyn's in the Central West End on the night in November 2001 that my friend Jen and I drove into town during our weeklong scouting of Midwestern universities. She was applying to a bunch of master's programs; I was along for the ride. We were a couple of car-lagged East Coast chicks who were falling in love with St. Louis by the minute, enraptured as much by the candelabra streetlamps and splendid brick mansions of Euclid Avenue as we had been a half-hour earlier by our first-ever sighting of the Arch. Mike was clearly too hot to talk to us, even though the bar was dead that Sunday night and it was... More >>>