“You’ve got to be kidding me? This is one of the most liberal states in the US and you
don’t sell beer in the grocery store?”
That’s verbatim what I said to the poor clerk who asked if I was able to
find everything I needed, just before they closed for the night. Bet a
few days will pass before he asks someone that question again.
OK, so my trip is now a little less efficient because I have
to hit the liquor store on the way home from the grocery store. The additional greenhouse gases created, fuel
consumed, hydrocarbon particulates spewed into the Boston atmosphere, the additional traffic congestion and increased potential for car crashes caused by NOT SELLING BEER IN THE GROCERY STORE should make this a no-brainer revision to state law during the next legislative session.
But I’m adaptable, so I ask the poor clerk for directions to a nearby
liquor store. “Turn left out of
the parking lot; there’s one about two blocks down on the right.”
And there it was: a liquor store fit for the opening murder
scene in a Quentin Tarantino movie.
Very dark parking lot, blacked-out windows, glass doors that have been
inset with what looks like cast iron panels, all set beneath a gigantic neon
sign that’s half burnt-out.
But the siren song of single malt Scotch is very strong, so I’m headed in, hoping that Tarantino’s
screenwriter hasn’t finished typing up this scene.
Inside was about the same atmosphere, except brightly illuminated
by various hues of naked fluorescent lights. They did have a wide selection of liquor bottles, however, and a
big wine section that looked quite promising. I snatched up a bottle of Bowmore Islay Scotch, and went
looking for the Hud the Stud litmus test of liquor stores: do they have Bulleit
Bourbon? Yes! And what’s more, they have Bulleit Rye
whisky, too! Eureka! The mother lode!
But it was dark, I was brand new to
Boston/Charlestown/Somerville, I was lost to begin with, … and now I have
no idea how to find the place again.
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