Gemini Magazine
_______________
Outside Sully’s a woman clutching
lottery slips and crumpled dollar
bills begs me to go in and play
her numbers. I’m banned from
there, she says. I’m banned from
every store in Quincy. When she
approaches other people closer to
the door a guy comes out and in a
loud voice makes like he’s calling
the police.

Oh you’re the sign guy! exclaims
a customer out for a smoke. He
remembers me from last Friday's
unproductive photo shoot. He
tells me again that the place is
seventy-five years old, been in
the same family all that time, the
owner just died last year and
there’s a plaque on the wall from
the former mayor.

You’re taking a picture of
Sully’s?
laughs a girl walking by.

Inside it is dark but clean. A half
dozen guys are playing darts.
They look very serious. The
bartender is fuming that a girl
who just went to the ladies’ room
had the nerve to show him a birth
certificate when he asked for a
picture ID. I order a tomato juice
and he looks a little shocked,
wants to dress it up. Ice? Salt &
pepper? It’s great with ice and
only costs a buck. An easygoing
guy named Eduardo bemoans
losing seven hundred bucks at
some bar over the bridge. Seven
hundred bucks! Down the bar a
smiling middle-aged woman on a
stool by herself confidently fills
out lottery tickets. The girl with
the birth certificate returns, says
her name is Apple. Her girlfriend
laughs at everything while
chugging a brown bottle of beer.

A car pulls up to the curb and
three pretty Eastern European
girls—one of them shockingly
pretty—slide out and strut to the
Fat Cat next door where they
serve things like fried squid. A
couple of the darts players make
fun of the parking job. They finish
their smokes and go back inside.

                       —David Bright

Read customer reviews in Yelp.com's
"Dive Bar" category.
SULLY'S ON TUESDAY