JJ Foley's Bar. Boston, Massachusetts.

21 Kingston Street

Guinness Tag: $10.40 | Overall Rating: 5.85

Today's Dedicated Pint: Becky: The Icebox, a good friend, and a superb Cincinnatian.

There are two JJ Foley's here in Boston. Both ran by different people. One location is the oldest Irish Pub in Boston. This JJ Foley's is not that one, it's the other one. I'm not the biggest fan of it, and I think it's a bit shite.

Whenever I do a big Pub crawl like the one I did here in Boston, I typically carry around a book for note taking. That way, while I'm inside the 3rd or 5th Pub of the day, I don't get anything mixed up or lose sight of what needs to be said. I'm clearly not writing these articles as I sip on my Guinness at the bar (although I think that would be fun to try one of these times here soon), so I need something to look back on and remind me of what exactly transpired and my immediate thoughts about the place during my imbibement.

As I look at my notes at this Pub in particular, I've never had such a demanding tone of voice throughout my jots. For whatever reason, I was very stern about giving this place a rating below a 6, and I made sure my future self knew that I thought the place sucks a bit.

"Greasy bartenders. They dress the part, but you can put lipstick on a pig. One dude is a sloppy, outta shape, sweaty fat fuck with pants sagging below his cheeks even with a belt on."

My notes are typically bullet points and succinct. These were on a whole new level. There are a lot more in this fashion, and I can show you, but you'll just have to catch me in person for that. It'd be one thing if this Pub was a total dive, and I'm not going to say this place is proper by any means, but if you're going to make your staff rock the white button downs and a tie with black pants, then I find it a bit odd to allow them to look unprofessional and sloppy at the same time. "Well, at least they're wearing a white button-down shirt, so..." I'd rather just hang out with a pig than hang out with a pig who's trying to fool me into thinking it's something prettier like a lamb. Anyways, let's get into JJ Foley's and why I don't think it necessarily scratches the itch. Please, whatever you do, keep reading. Or not, what do I care?

The curb appeal sucks giant ass aside from the fun signage. I do love the sign out front, though. It sits between Chinatown and downtown, and the immediate area isn't much to write home about. This is evidently a place where the locals flock. It's a good neighborhood bar, so don't get me wrong, it's a good spot for friends to meet up in every week to unwind. You'd probably catch me in here every once in a while, had I lived nearby, but more out of the locality's convenience over the place's "charm."

Once you walk in, you'll notice black and white checkerboard tiles on the floor, and two separate rooms. The bar is in the front room with a busted down Golden Tee machine, and you'll find tables and booths in the back room. There was a lot of early 2000's pop music being played throughout the night, "Do you have to let it linger? Do ya have to?" It was all touchtunes, so it could have been anything playing tonight. The crowd feels like a younger, college-type demographic that opts for screaming as loud as possible for no reason while spilling cherry bombs on the floor as they walk to and from the bar.

We plopped our potatoes on a couple of barstools and asked for a Guinness. After a good little while, the Guinness arrived in good fashion. The beers on tap are just like the whiskey selection: not amazing but it'll get the job done.

This might come off a bit controversial, but it's about time I said it. I've always had a gripe with the phrase, "You're Welcome." There are times to use it, yes, but in the hospitality world (my sanctuary and hell), I don't necessarily believe there is ever a good time to use it. If someone sits down at your bar, they are giving you patronage. Yes, you are giving that person a service, but you're also getting paid to do that service. If someone gives you money to do a service, I believe you should thank them rather than tell them, "You're welcome." Even after I pour someone a beer and hand it to them and they tell me, "Thank you," I respond with a "thankyou" of my own. If I gave them a free beer on the house, then sure, perhaps then I'll throw them a "you're welcome," but still unlikely. I see it as rude whenever someone tells me, "You're welcome" after doing such a simple task all while getting paid by me to do so. (I feel like I'm writing a Larry David script for Seinfeld right now). When you drop $200 at the grocery store, would you rather have the cashier tell you "thanks," or "you're welcome?" B*tch, I just gave you $200 for a cart that would have cost me $75 back in 2019, if anyone should be telling someone, "You're welcome," it's me. I digress. My apologies.

Well, my bartender told me that I was welcome a few times tonight, and it annoyed me. I know I'm welcome, damn it. It doesn't always irritate me, but the way the dude said it tonight was flippin' annoying. But hey, that's just like, my opinion, man...

Another thing from my notes that happened to be fantastically curt: "Shit fuckin' bathrooms." That's all I'm going to speak on that topic there.

There are way better neighborhood bars in the immediate area to go to than JJ Foley's. Sure, you can have a fun time here, just like how you can have a fun time at Chili's. I'd rather have a fun time somewhere else, because this place is weak. The decor is lame, it's dirty and grimy, the furniture is jank, the golden tee machine makes me depressed, the shitters are shit, the bartenders are subpar, and the Guinness is over 10 bucks. Get me outta here.

Thanks anyways, JJ Foley's. Slainte.