Where to Hang my Hat?

I don't need a local tavern where I can comfortably hang my hat every night, but once a week would be nice. I live right outside of Boston in a middle class neighborhood with its fair share of retail, light-industrial and restaurant/pub space. I don't spend a lot of time around here though (as you can tell by reading the rest of this blog) but once a week I like to hit up a neighborhood spot for a combination of beer/sports/food/bonding. The thing is - I just can't find a place where everyone knows my name (one or two people would be fine actually).

First on the list is the local Irish bar. I'm not going to name names so as to protect the guilty. The "Irish" place is the closest to my house...although I've never seen an Irish person anywhere in sight. The food is low grade pub slop, even the french fries are weak. The crowd is a mix of locals, yah-doods, professional drunks and failed musicians. Sunday evening is "leave your mom's basement to play in or listen to bad blues" night. Ugh. This dump doesn't have one redeeming quality.

The next closet establishment is by far the most entertaining. We'll call it the "Chinese food dive". I've popped in a few times and the bartender almost remembered my name last week. I'm surprised she even recognized me because I think blow and oxy has played a prevalent role in her lifestyle. She is a sweetie though, and this is the friendliest place in the area (but it might be the drugs that keep people talking). I've actually bought a drink for someone every time I've been in here, mainly because I think I'm the only one with a full time job (drug dealing doesn't count). The trick is to get here after someone has already played 18 Journey songs in a row on the jukebox - and everyone in the bar sings along. Poorly. Like I said, it's entertaining.

Next up - the "fireman's bar". This joint used to have some character and a pretty decent menu, then a local fireman bought it and dressed (er messed) it up. It's pretty much filled with, ya know - firemen, cops and chicks who want to sleep with firemen and cops. I'm all set with this place...for I am neither. And what's up with firemen who smoke? Am I the only one who sees the irony here?

That's all there is within walking distance of my house. There are a couple more spots in the area and on the way home from work, like the "wing place", which is always packed after 6pm. It seems to be migrating grounds for every softball team within a three mile radius. This place does have the best set-up for watching sports, and what goes well with sports on TV...friggin' wings baby. The main drawback with this wing slinger (besides getting jostled around) are the silver-spoon townies mucking up the joint. The unemployed druggies at the other place are much more bearable. There's also the pizza chain (the one that serves booze) next door where I see the same two guys every time I pop in. There's the lonely divorced guy who hits everyone up for a job, and the crazy genius dude who's always frantically circling statistics in the sports section. I get my pizza to go.

Finally, last night I scoped out a new place (that's been around forever). It's a mini local restaurant/bar chain. Holy crap is this place affordable, but you get what you pay for - or maybe a little bit more. Huge portions were flying out the kitchen doors and there was a decent wait to sit in the dining area. I'm a pretty decent sized guy, but I felt like Slim Pickins in here - fatties, fatties everywhere. They sure know where to go for a big cheap foodbag of fatty fried vittles. And then trivia night started up - I must be some type of freakin' genius because I knew the answer to every question they posed. I didn't spend much time getting to know everyone, got my five pounds of heart attack fried chicken and headed home. The search goes on...