While spending a night in Cooperstown, NY visiting the Baseball Hall of Fame, my friend Matt, his wife, and their father went to bed a little earlier than I am accustomed. I am not the biggest of night owls myself, but they are teachers and pastry chefs. They certainly fall into the "early to bed, early to rise" sect of society. They had also driven over to Cooperstown from Boston that day as well (a 6hr jaunt) and were ready to peter-out around 10ish.
We had already closed down the bars that resided right in Cooperstown, so my options were to go to bed early myself or go out hunting for a local dive bar. Every town seems to have at least one so I knew it wouldn't be a wild goose chase. Within minutes, I happened upon The Milford Inn. Though I came to find out the place was an actual inn as well, I was purely interested in what the bar had to offer. It looked PERFECT from the outside.
There wasn't much breadth to the supply behind the bar, but that isn't always a bad thing. A bar never loses points in my book if it neglect to include ANYTHING from the DeKuyper family and any other schnapps or liquers (not to be confused with liquor) like Razmatazz, Tequila Rose, or Buttershots. They are all nasty and not included in any respectable drink anyway.
The place was pretty well lit. Not my choice, but who cares really. I wasn't here to stake my claim as a mainstay anyway. It is their bar and everyone there seemed as if they came with the place. They had a pool table and booze. Those are pretty much the only standard requirements to a good bar.
The girl behind the bar was a good ol' girl. Big mouth, big ass, and could probably drink me under the table effectively winning any discourse I would ever choose to argue. However, I kept quiet, enjoyed by drinks, watched a little tv, and was on my way. I think I just stayed for 2 Miller Lights and a shot of Makers Mark. I slept like a baby.
