The Bar: Patsie Dugan’s. This was Emerald Isle. When it closed they hastily put up a new sign with the new name but there is still Emerald Isle signage visible. Nothing changed from what I hear
The Address 49 Millbury Street
The price Six dollars
Did they ask me if I wanted a lime She did
What was the type of gin It was well gin.
What was the gin and tonic like It was strong. Oh friends, it was strong. The bartender made up the drink like it was a dare. She took out the pint glass, Put in ice. Poured in an inch or two of gin. Looked at it, poured some more gin in. Looked one more time and put more gin. There was enough space in the glass for a tiny baptismal amount of tonic to be anointed upon it. I just stared at it, like I was given the lady or the tiger to chose between. I mean I do like a stiff drink, but I also like being to walk and breathe and function. My choice was to ignore the drink and let the ice melt. I was not going to stand afterwards if I didn’t. So I just sat there waiting for ice to melt. After about ten minutes the bartender came over to me with a concerned face. “Is the drink okay?” That was sweet, it was nice for her to notice I wasn’t going near the thing. I lied and said, “Oh its fine, I’m just a slow drinker.” I eventually drank, and it was a lot of poor gin mocking me. I drank it and hobbled over to another bar where I had a diet coke.
The Joint I don’t know if this is the way it is every day, but it struck me as sad. The place is large, with a bar area, that is slightly tight, and a dance area and then a large dining area. The only place people sat was the bar area. The dining area didn’t just seem slow, but unused, like it was a prop to a restaurant scene in a play. People were drinking this Wednesday night, but too many. They talked to each other, but mostly they looked at their phones. Tapping away, smiling at what they scrolled upon. No one was eating, just drinking, it didn’t seem like anyone was working the kitchen, if there was a working kitchen. And all of that space not used mocked the present at what this place once was but isn’t anymore.
General Impressions I drank my drink slowly and watched a dull scene. I am sure that there are times when this is a lively joint, but it wasn’t this day. It was a way station, the bar you were at when you were waiting for your mates to come and then go to some place better. I thought the bartender was nice for noticing me not touching my drink, but that’s it for me liking it. Not much of a vibe or a personality, just a place that used to be filled with people, and now a place where you can get a powerful glass of booze.
Will I come back No.