I am lucky enough in this phase of my life to live within a 45-second walk from my favorite bar, a place where I’ve almost reached the status Norm had on “Cheers.” Taking a break from all your worries sure does help a lot. And it’s even better when everyone knows your name — but not your entire life’s back story or that thing you did that one time that none of your so-called friends just will not let go.
The Brazen Head is perfect for me: low-key; an interesting client base of locals, law students, lawyers, criminals and that one cat who just shows up and plays his clarinet along with whatever music is playing; a solid selection of bourbon (and Scotch, too, if you’re into that sort of thing); a dart board that is used by people who bring their own darts (I don’t play anymore, but this I find comforting); and a rotating selection of good beers but, just as equally, a place where no one is going to give you stink-eye if you order a Budweiser and a Jack on the rocks.
Also, the staff is exceedingly friendly and, in the case of the women, attractive (yes, even before the drinking starts).
Continue reading “Don’t Poop Where You Partake”
KEN WHEATON 