Excerpt:
"I looked for a well-lit place, not too intimidating, and turning a corner there it was, the Monkey Tavern…a joint I will never forget. I made up my mind, sucked up my courage, and entered. Immediately I was overwhelmed by a cloud of smoke that burned my eyes and nearly choked the life out of me. Wheezing and squinting I could make out a few old men at the bar hunched over their beers, cigarettes dangling from corners of their mouths, not looking and not seeing. I heard tell there remained a few hold-outs, speakeasies I think they were called, where a man could still buy alcoholic drinks….and well, looked like I found one. I thought to myself mama would sure have a hay-day in here. A nefarious character was talking to a prickly looking bar maid. Covered in tattoos with thick make-up layered over cracks, what other people call wrinkles, it was obvious she was hard as nails and wouldn’t tolerate any nonsense. A sign above the bar informed patrons to keep their hands off her…a totally unnecessary warning. She gave me a look that I was not welcome and definitely in the wrong place. Searching for a friendly face in the half-light of the bar I saw a few tables with more of what appeared like the nearly dead perched on chairs waiting their turn for the grim reaper to catch up with them. I could tell by the décor that I had wandered into a seamen’s bar. And the creatures I beheld were seamen; or had been seamen at one time.”
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