Dearly beloved --
It's getting late in the day, and I'm coming to the conclusion that heaven doesn't want us this time around. But no tears, my friends, being left behind has its benefits -- I've heard we get to keep all the devout folk's clothes. And now we're free to create our very own type of rapture, our own heaven on earth.
With this blissful ideal in mind, this week we'll convene at The Good Life in the Financial District of Boston. (We should have a lucky time of it, too. Tomorrow's PubNight counters today's satanic date with lucky triple sevens: PubNight #7, on the 7th, at 7 pm.) The Good Life is a little more upscale than our typical dive. But after all we've been through -- surviving another apocalypse and all -- don't you think we deserve better than soggy nachos?
In addition to fancy-sounding food, they've got assorted drinks with theme-appropriate names and creative ingredients. All right, I'll be honest, I've been trying my best to put a positive spin on this whole "being snubbed by the rapture" thing, but El Diablo (the Good Life drink of tequila, lime juice, pomegranate juice) sounds really tempting right now. We just might let go of this paradise idea and let the devil drag us under to the Afterlife Lounge, a frozen vodka bar just downstairs from The Good Life.
-- Siobhan, Joan, and the Boston PN Triumvirate