Mr. Dooley's. Boston, Massachusetts.

77 Broad Street

Guinness Tag: $10.25 | Overall Rating: 9.60

Today's Dedicated Pint: The Mad Piper COV | "Trust everybody, BUT, cut the cards."

It wasn't a mistake to find Mr. Dooley's as we perused throughout the financial district, but the discovery of the Pub's remarkable charm and Craic was quite serendipitous. We were heading toward the Union Oyster House (not that great, sorry, it reminded me of mushy old people food) after having a great time at Biddy Early's just a few blocks away, and I'm normally not lucky enough to venture into two great Pubs back to back. Today, I felt like Frano Salek, because not only was Mr. Dooley's a great Pub; it's perhaps my second or third favorite Pub in all of Boston!

It sits along Batterymarch and Broad Street, and as you approach the front door you immediately start thinking, "Oh shit, this might be one of those really great Irish Pubs that you dream about when people bring up Boston." It's on the corner of the street and the building/entryway is angled in an untraditional way. It displays a healthy amount of Irish flags, beautiful windows, and flower boxes (the flowers are artificial, which is a bit of a bummer). The building also has the traditional black walls with gold lettering as well. Mr. Dooley's gives you the "feel goods" before you even open the door. I love this place.

The Pub poured its first Guinness in 1991, and it's known for having spur of the moment music sessions. For a place that isn't very old, it certainly feels old school in the best way I can put it. Word on the street is that they dish out one of Boston's best burgers, and as much I'd imagine they don't: I can't have an opinion on that matter, as I chose not to indulge. I wish I did, because I'm sure it would have been a lot better than the overpriced, microwaved vegetables I had at The Oyster House later on. Damn, I swear I wasn't planning on dogging The Oyster House as I sat down to write this article this evening, but as much as I typically keep to myself as I'm out and about, I can't say I'm very reticent when it comes to sharing my experiences through literature. Oh well, I don't owe anyone anything, so who cares.

As soon as you walk through the door you notice the perfectly dim atmosphere with the bar on the left and the dining room on the right. The furniture is perfectly worn in, the wooden floorboards are fitting, the counters and walls have plenty of patina, and the craftsmanship in here has that old school touch to it. You'll find gold/brass touches throughout the place such as on the frames, doors, and hanging lamps above the

barstools. One of my favorite things about Mr. Dooley's is that you won't find any TV's. The place relies on social interaction, which means when this Pub is in its prime, the Craic is on full display. I'd imagine it's near impossible to find a barstool in here after 5PM on a workday. The place was pretty packed throughout our visit today, but it wasn't obnoxious.

Sitting inside this Pub at night, watching the snow fall, sipping a Guinness, while enjoying the banter at the bar and a live music session in the back would probably be the closest thing to Heaven that I can think of. Looking in at the Pub from the outside during a snowstorm would probably urge anyone to drop in, as the interior's ambient glow screams, "Enjoy me, now!" Everything I'm a fan of, Mr. Dooley's delivers. The decor on the walls is legit too, rather than the mass-produced crap from beer distributors. I hate that I didn't get much of a chance to interact with the regulars or chat much with the bartender. I'm definitely in need of a revisit sometime in the near future because I want to be a part of the magic here.

They offer Tayto Chips for those in need of a snack, mirrors behind the liquor bottles for those wanting to look back at themselves, and Gaelic music for those trying to tap the foot. You're surrounded by smiling faces and brogues. You're offered a phenomenal whiskey selection and a draft beer list that will get the job done. You'll unfortunately be greeted by a bouncer at the door come the evening, which kind of sucks. I didn't get a chance to check out the toiletries, so you're on your own with those.

I love Boston. If I could buy a unit here I would, but I'm a few pennies shy from being penniless, and Boston ain't too cheap. If you're wandering around downtown with an hour to kill, then you need to grab a pint inside Mr. Dooley's. If you don't, then I'll consider you an idiot! I wish it had a dart board, but that's small potatoes. This place slaps. I can't wait to come back.

Slainte.