Longtime institutions are closing, but could a new batch be primed to replace them?
Every line I enter into my computer about the Hub is also part of a love story, because like a parent in the 1950s (or today, I guess) attempting to rationalize smacking their kids, I truly love the objects of my animosity. Oftentimes, it hurts me more than it hurts Boston to level such relentless criticism.
It goes without saying that this a seriously subjective roundup, compiled by our brain trust and the interjectors who barged into our discussions at the coffee shops and bars where our list blossomed.
Be it Davis Square in Somerville, the wild shoddy badlands of Allston, and even the nooks found around Fenway Park, what you're about to read is a story involving intoxicated buffoonery all conducted at your favorite (or not-so-favorite) local haunts, be it drinking in public outdoors (but just for a photo), allusions to shooting pornography, and even men in ruffled shirts becoming threatened by small children drinking out of coconut shells in close proximity to them.