Just a ways down from my house is The Burren, a rather nice Irish pub in the central business district of Davis Square, Somerville. They’re applying for a 2AM license. Now, normally I’m all in favor of stuff being open late. I like late night stuff. I like business. I like bars.
I do not like people urinating on my house, which they have a tendency to do when they are drunk and walking from the Burren back to Tufts.
And you know that if the Burren gets a late license, Orleans, directly across from my house, will probably get one. As it is, Orleans is such a lame bar that I’m barely willing to tolerate its existence at any hour. But I’m a nice guy and their summer evening tables in the Comcast parking lot are not really all that bad. But I really hate people shrieking as they leave it (WHOOOO YEAH WHOO WHOO!), and I really hate people in trucks with fart-can exhausts and ground effects idling in front of my house with country music at full blast that I can hear all the way in my bedroom with the doors shut and a pillow over my head. I guess they’re picking up their friends working to clean up after close? Irritating.
Don’t get me started on what must have been the Tufts a capella group that got drunk there. I don’t care how good your voice is, a capella sucks at the best of times. It has no place on a residential street at one in the morning.
When I first got to Boston, I wondered why it closed down so early. Now I know: undergrads abuse the responsibility, and prematurely cranky old guys like me (seriously, I’m not even thirty) are jerks about it.