Prologue: On an unofficial visit to Harrington’s Bar & Grill on the first day of June in 2007, I formed the following rather unfortunate impressions. Firstly, the place has zero atmosphere, unless by atmosphere you mean the sort of place one expects to find peanut shells on the floor. Secondly, it’s loud and packed with after-work financial district types (at least on Fridays), so if you’re looking for a lonely lawyer or a frisky financial analyst, this might be a place to start your search. Thirdly, the ladies’ room is (or was at that time) the absolute grossest one I had seen in any Bars (I was up to #15 at the time) yet. I’m talking third-world country gross. It was truly a disaster zone, and had me wishing I had one of those phameras (phone + camera) just so I could document its awfulness, lest anyone think I was exaggerating.
Now I do realize that the facts as presented above are not going to help boost attendance at the Official Visit, but I wanted any brave souls considering joining me here to be aware of what they are possibly in for. And Harrington’s does have at least one good thing going for it: one of the bartenders there is the uncle-in-law of one of my favorite — and one of the most darling — bartenders in town, named Frank Jr., who works at the Cocktail Lounge Gino & Carlo, which is a far superiour drinking establishment to Harrington’s and where you can often find me, flirting outrageously with Frank Jr. (but just in fun, because he is totally married!). In fact, I think I’ll head to G&C after hitting Harrington’s in an Official Capacity, in order to which to look forward.