Day 9 (8/27), Boston - Part 1: Southie

To begin our morning, Jen took us to Attleboro's finest restaurant, Babe's Place. This was the type of greasy place that could be found in any small town in America. The kind with a long row of counter seating, with the people at them drinking cheap Folgers coffee, and an assortment of tables and booths around them. I could have bought the same ham and cheese omelet here as I could at Denny's. However, two things set this place apart from all the others. First, the waitresses had awesome accents. Serious. They were such distinct New England accents (not necessarily a Boston accent) that I almost laughed when I heard them. Secondly, they had eggs Benedict on the menu. And while they are typically only sold on Sundays, they made an exception and cooked some up for us. Yay!

We left Babe's, blew through Attleboro, and headed to Boston. For multiple reasons, I've always wanted to visit Boston. For one, I'm big into cities, so Boston, with its rich history, has always appealed. Also, part of that history involves the settlement of generations of Irish immigrants, and with my cultural pride, it seems like a city that I would vibe with. Lastly, my good friend, Gibby, lives there.

The plan was to do some site seeing early in the day and, when Gibby got off work, hook up with him. When we got into the city around 11:00, we went straight to South Boston, where we walked through the neighborhood, stopping at no fewer than three bars. Yes, it was early, but we were excited to be in Boston and, more specifically, Southie. Plus, the neighborhood didn't offer much else to do. So, with Jenny as our guide, we stopped first at the Boston Beer Garden on Broadway. Although big and fancy, this place lacked the character that I envisioned of a Southie bar. With the urge to leave after the first drink, the Beer Garden served only the purpose of wetting our whistle before hitting up bars as we explored the neighborhood.

The second bar we went to, the Quencher, was the quintessential neighborhood hang. The patrons spoke of their 20 plus years of frequenting the place. Displaying on the walls were pictures of the Red Sox, famous people who have come into the bar, and newspaper articles talking about Southie. They sold tee shirts that read, "South Boston is Behind Me," proclaiming their pride for the neighborhood. There was also a dog, Shorty, hanging out (figuratively and literally, as the dog had ginormous balls and his scrabble bag dragged on the floor).

After a couple drinks at The Quencher, we decided to explore the neighborhood a bit more. The neighborhood, although obviously prideful and full of tradition, was not what I had envisioned. Yes, there was Irish pride, as evidenced by the various bars' names, Irish flags and other insignia, but it did not appear to be a rough and tumble area, as portrayed in movies. However, the densely packed, low-rise buildings, peppered with quaint neighborhood bars, did offer a certain charm.

As we explored Southie, we visited a couple other bars: the L Street Tavern and the Shannon Tavern. L Street was ran by a friendly bar tender who, in between flirting with Maggie and Jen, cursed the bus loads of tourists who flock to the bar due to its appearance in the movie, Good Will Hunting. It was made famous as a local hang for Ben Affleck and Matt Damon's characters in the movie, which took place in Boston, mostly in Southie. Despite the loathing of tourists, the bar did not shun its Hollywood connection, as pictures of Affleck, Damon, and Robin Williams made their place amongst other Irish themed wall adornments.

The Shannon Tavern, making reference to one of Ireland's rivers, was probably the most non-descript of the bars we went to. Filled with old-timers playing the lottery and drinking, the bar, on the bottom floor of a corner residential building, was only distinguished by a small Guinness sign hanging above the door and a shamrock displayed on the outer wall.

While at the Shannon, Gibby called to let us know he was off work. He gave us directions to his downtown apartment, the One Devonshire, and we were on our way, sadly leaving Southie behind. As it turned out, our early morning drinking in Southie would pale in comparison to what was in store later that night.