PX, Old Town Alexandria. 2:47 am, September 7th, 2017 In the waning hours of another humid summer work night, the bartender turning down the business grimaced when the door opened and an older gentleman came shifting through the entrance. No doubt, this old timer couldn't sleep and thought to himself that
Libertine, Chatham Arch. 2:47 am, February 28th, 2017 Stepping in from the biting cold where his head was exposed to the incessant rain that surely planned to torment him through this week's work trip, James Cook could only imagine how much of a glowing red beacon his balding head would be at a place like
Libertine, Downtown. 2:47 am, September 18th, 2016 Since Forever. The words non-mockishly running below the bar name printed on the drink napkins in lieu of a conventional "Establish Year X", Charlie Whitehurst could only chuckle to himself. This place had not been around forever, and he should know. For a Sunday night, the crowd was dead.
Honor Amongst Thieves, Uptown. 2:47 am, August 11th, 2016 "To Larry!" In unison, "TO LARRY!" With a sarcastic sense of modesty "Oh ok. To me." Larry Fitzgerald wasn't a comedian but he was a likable individual and one the NFL's truly good guys; and the roaring applause to his response was proof. Drafted by Arizona in 2004,
Green Russell, Larimer Square. 2:47 am, August 9th, 2016 Standing behind the back bar, two mixologists are silently bickering about the cell phone use of the patron seated in the corner booth. Though he has been a model customer, paying cash and tipping his waitress with every round -- each time promising that,
When there is nowhere else to go.... Angel’s Share, East Village. 2:47 am, January 4th, 2016 The reverberation of the celebratory fireworks subsided 45 minutes ago. The final revelers exited 30 minutes ago. And the house lights would shut themselves down in 3...2... "One...And click." His voice echoed. Tonight would be the same as every since
A Nondescript Contemporary Hotel Bar, 3rd Level. 2:47 am, October 19, 2015. A ginger-haired Princeton man sits at the bar on the corner stool nursing a Perrier and cucumber. He takes a sip and is jerked up straight, sucking on his tongue and drawing back his lips with a grimace. He does not typically bastardize the taste of his
Wilson & Wilson, The Tenderloin. 2:47 am, September 30, 2015. A man sits alone in the center booth of the bar-within-a-bar, waiting patiently for his appointment. From the Bayou to the Bay, it had been less that 17 hours since his colleague (well, former colleague these days, he supposed) called and asked that