Over this past weekend, I had the fortune to make the acquaintance of "Tom". "Tom" is from around here, methinks, but apparently can't stand to admit it. He regaled me with stories of how there's another city a few hours south of Boston that is just sooooo much cooler, because you can still order a glass of single malt at 3:45.
"So what's the big deal?", I asked. My question was met with a resounding "...well, I dunno. It's, like, the atmosphere. It's just, like, nice to know that you can still get a drink after two...not like this Boston shit." (for those readers unfamiliar with the situation, most bars in Boston are only open until 2 am).
What is is that goes on between the hours of 2 and 4 that is so extraordinary? Is it some late night/early morning renaissance, that only the dwellers of that city-to-the-south are fortunate enough to experience? Do the bartenders suddenly stop pouring water, and will my cup runneth over with that sweet sweet nectar of (night)life? Do Dick and Harry suddenly start buying all your drinks? Most importantly, do the people rubbing up against you in the strobe light infested waters of whatever saloon you're in pull a bizarro Cinderella and get inexplicably more fabulous after we Bostonians hear the bell for last call?
As Mike Dean would say, I doubt it.
And oh ya - Fuck you, "Tom".
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