Tuesday, September 16, 2008
I live in a neighborhood that may have one of the highest concentrations of Irish bars in the five boroughs. These bars tend to be self-segregated according to the county from which their denizens have emigrated, and some of them you wouldn't really want to go into, though my wedding reception and my son's baptism party were both held at one of the nicer ones.
Along with this phenomenon comes what I would deem -- admittedly based on anecdotal evidence rather than hard numbers -- a higher-than-usual rate of midday public drunkenness. Imagine my suprise, then, walking down pub alley the other day, when I passed by The Celtic House and saw that someone had left the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous in the open front window.