“‘Nurse,’ I sobbed. She poured doubles like an angel, right up to the lip of a cocktail glass, no measuring. ‘You have a lovely pitching arm.’ You had to go down on them like a hummingbird over a blossom. I saw her much later, not too many years ago, and when I smiled she seemed to believe I was making advances. But it was only that I remembered. I’ll never forgot you. Your husband will beat you with an extension cord and the bus will pull away leaving you standing there in tears, but you were my mother.”
Now this is a book that you can stick in your back pocket and take to any old bar to read but you better not take it to a fancy bar, you better just take it to a dive-y neighborhood bar where Fuckhead himself would be happy to go. Sunny’s is that bar. Go to Sunny’s with this book in your back pocket and read “Work” and read “Dirty Wedding” and cry at the poetry as you lean over your drink, like a “hummingbird over a blossom.”
What to drink: House whiskey, neat. And beer. Something simple, like PBR or Genessee. And, yeah, I know that Genessee is awful, but that’s not the point now is it?
253 Conover Street, Red Hook