Coogan's. Boston, Massachusetts.
171 Milk Street
Guinness Tag: $10.70 | Overall Rating: 3.70
Today's Dedicated Pint: The Carlsons: fantastic neighbors, great bowlers, and lousy badminton players! Go Navy.
When you're sitting inside a bar at 34 years old and feel like the old guy (in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, mind you), then you know you're in a place that's not geared for most. We were enjoying the black stuff inside a fun Pub down the street called Biddy Early's, when we asked one of the regulars, "We're thinking of going to Coogan's after this, what do you think about that place?" The guy says, "Oh, no, that place isn't it." I told him, "Thanks for the insight," despite the fact we were 100% coming here no matter what. Well, we've arrived at Coogan's, and I have some harsh words to say about it. This might be exasperating for a few Bostonians, and I don't care.
I don't want any misapprehensions: I am by no means out here trying to make anyone look bad. However, if I'm going to step foot inside every Irish Pub in America, then it's evident I'm going to stumble into a few bad ones here and there. I made the plan to write an article about each Pub, and I'm never going to steer away from the truth whenever I write them. It's not my fault your Pub sucks. People need to know. I've spent too much money and time going to places that weren't worthy of it, and I think a part of this journey is to prevent others from doing the same. We all deserve a little break after a work shift, but none of us deserve to waste our valued break inside an unvaluable Pub.
If you caught it earlier, I called this place a "bar" rather than a "Pub," despite the place referring to itself as an Irish Pub. They offer $1.00 Bud Light drafts every day, so
you can only imagine the type of crowd they attract. I've said this before: there's nothing wrong with bar owners doing whatever works for them. However, don't get mad if it's not my cup of tea. If it's making you money, then by all means: keep it going.
The staff behind the bar caters to (what feels like) a frat-bro party, so if you think you're going to sit down, listen to Gaelic music, and have a genuine conversation with a knowledgeable bartender, then you're going to have a hard time doing so here. Every squirrel finds a nut every once in a while, so I'm not ruling out a unicorn of an experience. However, Coogan's is not for anyone looking for an authentic Irish Pub with charm, neat furniture, or anything Celtic, really.
As you approach the building, you are greeted with a bland curb appeal. As you enter the building, you are greeted with a bouncer. As you walk to the bar, you may very well be stepping on sticky floors as I did. I can't imagine the floors being sticky for any other reason than constant spilled beer (I'm ruling out puke, because I don't want to think about that).
We grabbed a barstool and ordered some Guinness. The guy gave us a look of, "Damn it, I don't want to pour that. Why couldn't you just get a Bud like everyone else?" He poured it in one of those awkward 20oz pint glasses that are made for light beer here in the states. No form-fitting Guinness glassware here, although they do serve it in an imperial, which is good. It took a little while for him to finish pouring (yes, I know Guinness takes longer than all other beers, this was a long time). We paid out
knowing there wasn't a chance we'd be staying for a second. The crowd was loud, sweaty, and stanky, so we moved to the room that overlooks the bar.
We sat down at a sticky table that was surrounded by fruit flies. It was the only table available. As we looked around, we noticed stacks upon stacks of empty cups, and nothing but obnoxiously loud people in their early 20s. The aroma smelled like an empty bottle of mustard filled with sweat, and the temperature of the room was at least 79 degrees. The music was a mix of hip hop and rap. It really felt like I was sitting inside a college frat house party.
The bar lays its bones on Milk Street, which is not only a short walk from Faneuil Hall, but it's also where Benjamin Franklin was born. Ben Franklin's face is blown up on one of the walls, and if I were him, I'd be ashamed if my face had anything to do with this establishment. I'd tell Mr. Coogan to "Take me off, now!"
They poured their first Guinness in 1996. I don't know what the future holds for these guys, but it doesn't look like they're going anywhere anytime too soon. Every area
needs a place like this, because it keeps the annoying frat bros away from the rest of us. If society didn't have bars that catered to this type of crowd, then we'd all have to deal with them at our favorite spots, and who the hell wants to do that?
If you're looking to watch some sports on a budget, then Coogan's is 100% your destination. Again, there's a time and place for everything. You can still enjoy yourself here if you go in with the right mindset, standards, and expectations. I'm sure the regulars have a blast watching Patriots and Red Sox games here, hell, I'd come in for an NFL Sunday at least once. Other than that? You'd have a better chance of seeing Rosie O'Donnell on a treadmill than seeing me on one of these barstools again.
Sorry, Coogan's. Just because you provide a hot, smelly, loud, and sticky place with bartenders that make me feel like a nuisance for simply existing, I still don't have any hard feelings toward you. Although, I'm sure you probably don't like me very much after this article. The hell with ya!
I'm off to a much, much better barstool.
Slainte.
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