Tuesday, November 22, 2016

The Dive Bars of America: Sully's (Quincy MA)

by Dan Moore
@SouthieDanimal

Another edition of The Dive Bars of the Good Ol’ U.S. of A. I’ve got a 5-category rating system between 1 and 4 handlebar mustaches, which is the preferred mustache by 9 out of 10 old timers in dive bars.


Sully’s
28 Chestnut St
Quincy, MA 02169


About a week ago, myself and fellow Enuffa contributor Scotty Pickles decided to head into Quincy Center for a little day drinking. And we decided on Sully’s as our venue of choice. For some reason, when you google this fine establishment, it comes up as Sully’s Spa. If you show up here for a nice massage and some possible crotch play, YOU’RE IN THE WRONG PLACE, PAL (that’s across the street). Sully’s is split into two distinct areas, one long bar and a seating area behind it. It also has a boss neon sign that you can see even when you’re blind drunk.




Fun Factor: Keno, all day, all night. Along with the scratchie machine, jukebox and old school TV with rabbit ears, that’s about it for your entertainment dollar. Not much happening here. But I love me some Keno, so I’m biased. They also have AWESOME décor all over the place. Planes made out of old Natty Light cans? YES PLEASE.



Cast of Regulars: Oh, yeah. TONS of em. And they were all hunkered down at the end of the bar watching reruns of “I Love Lucy”. I would love to judge these old codgers for watching an ancient episode of a show from the fifties, but I was drinking two-dollar beer in the middle of a Wednesday, so I can’t really act all high & mighty.

Spuds MacKenzie counts as a regular







Booze Choices: As usual with dive bars, there is very little choice here. Coupla taps of your standard domestics, Bud, Bud Light and I think PBR. But be careful with the drafts here, they came out a little chunky. But they do have champagne!

I always pair my liverwurst sandwich
with the finest bubbly I can find

(solely for the surprising champagne choice)



Stench: A surprisingly pleasant aroma in this joint. Until you hit the men’s room. Because they have no door for the toilet. That’s right. If you decide to pop a squat in this crapper, you’re doing it with a goddamn shower curtain to protect your private bits from the peering eyes of other degenerates that went day drinking.

This is not my shower stall.
This is the shitter.  In a bar.
Out in public.




OVERALL: I love this place. I’ve been here many times and I always have a blast here.  From the wood paneling that envelops the whole place to the ancient carpeting on the floor, Sully’s is like stepping back through a portal in time. A drunk, filthy portal. It’s like a home away from home.



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