Lucky Dog: The Original Neighborhood Bar
I approach the bartender and wave hello.
“Hey, Bobby!,” he exclaims, with a smile which is enthusiastic, friendly, yet also somehow shiteating. It is a smile that acknowledges my hatred of the name Bobby, but at the same time makes the whole thing endearing, because he has taken the time to get to know me: the customer. He has served me on a crazy and crowded Friday night after a loud concert, my ears still ringing, my eyes still bloodshot, and my voice still way, way too loud. He has also served me on a tame Monday night, when I walked in alone and confused after a strange date at the Cabot. We have talked about music and cars and jobs and life. He knows I hate the name Bobby and, oddly enough, I think that is something that probably makes him a good bartender.
Then again, I know nothing about bartending. Maybe this dude is just a big jerk.
I order my usual Notch Left of the Dial IPA. Lucky Dog always has a good amount of variety with their beers on tap. It is located in Beverly after all, so they’re definitely getting the craft beer crowd along with the “just give me a Bud Light” crowd. Having a good combo of beers both fancy and familiar is pretty key in an area where bars seem plentiful. I’ve never had a mixed drink here, but I have watched the bartenders make plenty, and you can tell that they care about what they’re doing. They even have snacks behind the counter, and I really enjoy the novelty of being able to put both a Manhattan and a Slim Jim on your tab.
After claiming my spot at the bar I take a quick sip of my beer and walk over to the ATM, which just happens to be in what I feel is the darkest part of the bar, illuminated only by the TouchTunes machine next to it. A small sign has been printed out and taped to the top of this internet music device:
“NO 4 NON BLONDES”
We live in a post-”play What’s New Pussycat five times in a row” world. We all have funny little ironic songs we like to play on the jukebox. I find the Lucky Dog’s approach to this groundbreaking, in that it immediately gets that joke out of the way. You’re not “allowed” to play the 1992 pop rock hit What’s Up by 4 Non Blondes here (I’m sure it goes for the rest of their catalogue but I’ve never really looked into it). Oh, you can play it. The song is still listed on the TouchTunes itself. Nobody will actually stop you from spending that token to hear it, but it will be skipped. And it will be skipped right before the chorus that everyone knows. Then, everyone will clap.
It sounds stupid, and it is. But it’s that silly sense of humor that sets Lucky Dog apart. It’s all about the presentation here. Lucky Dog doesn’t try to be something it isn’t. Their slogan (or hashtag, or whatever), is Five Star Dive Bar. This is entirely accurate. It is a big room with a bar, a popcorn machine (they have very good popcorn), a couple dart boards, and the aforementioned TouchTunes and ATM. There’s a bit of mood lighting behind the bar which complements the chalkboard listing current beer specials. There’s also some tables and two bathrooms, with one sporting a sign that simply says “4U2P.” Decor beyond the 4 TVs include: fake candles on the tables, a cartoon drawing of Johnny Cash (alerting the customers of the cash only rule), a couple black and white photos that I’ve never actually made out in the drunken darkness, and then, of course, two very important signs on each side of the bar:
“IN DOG BEERS, I’VE ONLY HAD ONE”
and
“TODAY’S SPECIAL: BUY TWO BEERS, PAY FOR BOTH.”
I find this funny in an agreeable way, and I make note of it on my phone as I sit by myself in the corner of the bar. I make conversation with strangers about Phil Collins, The Clash, Tom Jones, Ween, and Madonna. Music is a bit of an integral part of the Lucky Dog experience, or at least it is for me. The TouchTunes machine seems to get heavy use, and it’s interesting to hear the variety of music Beverly is listening to at the time. Once I walked in and I heard the Toadies, and that made me really happy. It was a lot better than the time I walked into the trader Joe’s and heard the Toadies, which I am convinced was a prank pulled on me by some sort of trickster god in an effort to make me feel old, lame, and deserving of any shit thrown at me. I pull up the app and play Madonna. The song starts instantly to the delight of many and the disgust of at least one.
In front of me, an advertisement for a $5 ‘case of the Mondays’ margarita. You can order this any day of the week, but they only advertise it on Mondays, which is really funny to me. I’m not actually writing this on Monday, and to be honest, the guy who calls me Bobby isn’t even working tonight. But this makes for easier writing, so let’s just go with it. Plus, why boil all my experiences at this bar down to just one night? Just for the sake of narrative? And as I’m sitting here trying to think of what makes this bar special or different, I think maybe it really is something as simple as the bartenders always making you feel like a regular or that they keep the vibe of the room comfortable enough that you don’t have to worry about a damn thing aside from maybe not wanting people to look at you when those lights come on at 1am. These aspects sound blatantly obvious, but the fact is this is the only bar I’ve been visiting for any extended period of time. Those little things are probably a big part of that.
After a few more beers and a long talk with a stranger about him working in a post office, I’m back to writing this on my phone in an Uber taking me home. It is very windy out and there’s a supposed to be a storm coming in. I watch the Lucky Dog sign swing back and forth with bits of snow flying around it. There it stands, just a sign, a door, and an ad for PBR. The Lucky Dog is a bar that defies expectations through its simplicity. It feels like the last of a dying breed, and it’s right in front of you, offering you some popcorn and the guarantee of a space free of 4 Non Blondes.
Bobby Mackenrodt, Beer Goggles 2018.
