3Drinks
3Drinks Taps a Keeper: Terrace Taproom
In which Mark gets afternoon-drunk—the best kind of drunk—in the name of Internet journalism.
To begin with, it's a strange feeling sitting in a Roxborough bar at 4:30 p.m. on a weekday. Growing up, I saw the grizzled grey men stagger out of their watering holes as I walked my way up Ridge Avenue toward the drug store on an errand for my mother and thought that it takes dedication, nay, the fiery trouble-born resolution of a man gone through a rough patch to drink—seriously drink—before nightfall. But those were different days for Roxborough, when the gravel in the concrete lodged itself in the crooks of your sneakers and made walking a bloody mess, when the bars leaked foulness out onto Ridge and Henry Avenues as the denizens therein staggered out into the harsh, unforgiving afternoon light toward their cars, prepared to zig and …
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