And what about the alcohol? While not encyclopedic, the distillate selection here seems thoughtfully chosen - what’s the buzzword these days, “well curated?” I order a Compass Box Peat Monster and sip it neat while I survey the surroundings and assess the crowd. One of them looks like a white-haired iteration of Jerry Garcia with maybe a touch of Andy Warhol could be a disbarred barrister for all I know, but he knows his ethanol. Maybe I can chat with a bartender, but these guys are busy, really hustling. However, the decibel level, while bearable, is a tad loud for legal advice. “I don’t want to get a DUI tonight, man,” he volunteers, and having mentioned my daytime gig as an attorney, I’m quick to remind him that I don’t practice criminal defense. Looking around, I spy a good deal of what’s termed “diversity,” with a table of young Asian women, a couple of discreet gay couples, and a voluble “three sheets” black man who’s downing water from a little cooler set up at the bar. I’m older, and less hip, but I don’t feel out of place. There are some folks here who might be termed “hipsters,” but they’re not brazen about it. Tonight at any rate, the patrons appear to be mostly in their 30s, perhaps 40s and convivial.
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