#SingleWordStory — Boston
After some delay, I finally got around to writing my second #SingleWordStory. @BOSinLAS asked for a story with the word “Boston” which you’ll find below. Hope you enjoy it!
The bar top is sticky, the stool wobbles with every adjustment, the floorboards are rotting, and it’s so dark, I can barely see the glass of Irish Whiskey that I’m holding.
But it’s quiet. Minus the sound of Donnell restocking glasses behind the bar, I can’t hear a thing. That’s usually the case at Duffy’s in South Boston.
I come for the quiet and I stay for the whiskey. I don’t keep any at home because I like to be alone when I drink. There’s less…it’s just easier this way.
Looking at the glass of Duffy’s cheapest hooch in my hand, I never realized how warm its goldish-brown glow is, even though this particular bottle spends most of its life sitting on the bottom shelf gathering dust. It’s not in a fancy crystal glass with a knobby bottom and thin lip, there’s no giant ball of ice to keep it cool, or any water to soften the blow. Just Irish Whiskey the way it’s supposed to be.
That’s the problem with the world today. Nothing is ever good enough for what it is. A phone that makes phone calls isn’t adequate. We need one that tells everyone what we’re doing on Facebook. A normal TV won’t do, we need one that’s 4K (whatever the hell that means). Like coffee in the morning? Make sure you get a grande iced, sugar-free, vanilla latte with soy milk.
I pity these people. Almost to the point where I want to help them. But I won’t. You can’t help people who won’t help themselves.
“Donnell, I’ll take another. And make this one a double.”