Happy Hours

As I sit in my room in Leverett Tower and look across the river, it occurs to me that despite having lived in this city nearly four years, the fraction of that time I’ve spent off campus is extraordinarily small—a realization I’d venture to guess is common at Harvard. After a few conversations with friends, the itinerary is set. We are going to explore the world beyond. A quick Google search tells us Brighton Ave. is the place to go, and so we set out, lacking any definite plan but having one singular goal: Experience something new.

PATRON'S

We tell our Lyft driver to take us to Brighton Ave., and he drops us off outside Patron’s, a Mexican restaurant known for its tacos and margaritas. After a brief pause for ID checks and the subsequent acquisition of bright orange bracelets, we climb narrow stairs and emerge into an upstairs bar with a comfortable atmosphere. The place boasts three connected rooms, set up in a gradient from mellow to hardcore. The first, brightly lit, consists mainly of pool tables with diner-style booths all around. The second is a bar, decorated with neon signs and bold paintings on every available surface. The final is lit only by strobe lights and a tiny, rave-like dance floor.

The wait for a pool table is almost an hour, so we spend most of our time at the bar. Despite the fact that it’s mid-February, chalkboards strewn about say “Happy New Year.” I ask about the theme, but the bartender shrugs and asks if I want anything to drink. One-dollar drafts, $2 mystery shots, and $3 Jell-O shots are displayed prominently atop the menu. Feeling adventurous, we all accept the mystery shots (which taste precisely like children’s cough syrup) and buy dollar drafts for good measure.

COMMON GROUND

Back on the street, we see an enormous line outside a bar called Common Ground. Someone in line tells us that it’s ’90s night, so, eager to feel nostalgic, we decide to join the queue. We pay a $5 cover, and, upon entering, we’re met with a wave of heat and a crowded room full of ’90s enthusiasts. There are no special cocktails that we can see, so we grab some beer on tap and head to the dance floor. On the way past the DJ, we see a stack of CDs—The Backstreet Boys’ “Black and Blue” at the very top—and I can’t help but smile. One hour and many ’90s songs later, we tear ourselves away from childhood and back to 2016, and we know it’s time to move on.

SILHOUETTE LOUNGE

The next place we check out is a little dive bar called the Silhouette Lounge. The motto is “Your Neighborhood Place,” and the dress is casual—it’s clear that people are here to spend time with friends. Customers mostly cluster around tables to talk, while some in the back shoot pool or play darts. This crowd is also a little younger than the others, and there’s not much inter-group mingling. Our highlight of the night comes in the form of a free gift: We’re handed a basket of complimentary popcorn when we order drinks. After munching on the popcorn and joking around with the stern-faced but surprisingly good-humored bouncer, we’re on our way out.

TAVERN IN THE SQUARE

The last stop of the night is a Harvard Square export: Tavern in the Square, Allston-style. The demographic is college-aged, the dress is fancy, and the music is significantly more modern than any of the other establishments we’ve entered tonight. A skinny man in glasses weaves through the center of the dance floor, lifting a fishbowl full of blue liquid and multicolored straws above our heads. Numerous TV screens cater to those hoping to catch a game, while the dance floor caters to those hoping to show off some game of their own.

It feels somehow complete to finish the night with fellow college students, bringing our foray into the adult world full circle. But all adventures must end eventually, and, after a time, we head back into the land of the familiar.