Two groups shove in to the small front room of Charlestown’s Tavern at the End of the World. There’s the party bus people on one end- ladies with club clothes and guys with Bruins jerseys ordering a never-ending stream of whiskey shots. “This is the last of my Jameson’s," the bartender/owner reports, which for this part of town is really saying something. “Yo fellas, they’re out, next spot!" 


"Where’d you come from?" the Guy next to me asks. Purple strobe lights are reflecting off brass medallions covering his baseball cap and the party pulls away. “The Holiday Inn right down the street. The Chris Gethard Show was doing a live taping in the pool."

"What’s that?" the Guy asks, probably not because he was hard of hearing. “A comedy show from New York." I point around the room, “Those guys are a local group, Big Digits, and there are some people from this local show, The Union Sqaure Round Table, but the rest are from New York." 

"Oh, well it was quiet until an hour ago," he says and orders another Bud Light. I look in to the next room, with its music and its fire place, to escape his crankiness but then he asks “So how was the show?" and we talk for twenty minutes about English tourists (he went to London five times after fighting in the Vietnam War), Dutch eye surgeons (who came in last Saturday, then back the next day with a tin of chocolates), and the value that is the Somerville Holiday Inn ("screw Downtown and go to hell Cambridge"). When a hipsterish kid pushes up to the bar and orders “whatever it is from the tap with the red lady" and I correct “Rapscallion and that’s actually the devil" the Guy snorts and smiles just a little. 


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