Woman goes berserk when she spots ex smooching another at Southie bar, police say

a Dorchester, too.

or a Townie will set your townie ass straight for you."
-- Elbridge Gerry

They should manage liquor licenses the way the manage taxi medallions. The licensing board could tell the bar what kinds of beer to serve, what temperature to serve it at, how much to charge for it, what music to play (assuming they paid for the 'play music' upgrade to their license), what color T-shirts the bartender should wear, etc. Then we'd have a more orderly, efficient system., and we'd be creating jobs for inspectors.

I didn't know Goldman Sachs board members, NBA All-Stars, and dudes with 11 inch (expletives) drank in the middle of South Boston.

Absent any of those characteristics, what made this guy so important that a woman would assault another woman over some kind of exclusive claim to him? What a terrific middle finger to women's rights.

For Chrissakes, lady, have some self-respect. You two couldn't agree on the terms of your toxic monogamy (or even whether that should be the framework in the first place.) Are you not smart (this shroud of emotion over intelligence notwithstanding?) Are you not pretty? Do you not have a sense of humor? Do you need to improve yourself into being the kind of person whose company is enjoyed by others? A man won't fix you. Do it yourself. Be less dependent.

when mediocre pub food, shitty pizza joints, and gross American-Chinese food dominated the dining scene, I think the food and drinks at Lincoln are pretty good; I especially like the wood-fired pizzas. But like its nearby siblings Loco and Capo, it's punishingly loud even when it's a third full. I carry a sound-pressure meter for my restaurant reviews (though I'm now practiced enough that I can earball the noise level pretty accurately), and Lincoln routinely reads over 90 decibels, which means you have to scream to your dining companion two feet away to be heard, and servers routinely get orders wrong, to say nothing of what it must be doing to their hearing and general health.

I like noise, still get out to indie-rock and punk shows on the regular, but wear good custom-fitted noise-reducing ear plugs (thanks, my long-ago audiologist girlfriend). I understand why restaurateurs make this choice -- the 20-somethings equate conversational noise levels with death, it keeps olds like me from ruining the atmosphere, and loudness deters camping, which yields more table-turns and hence profits per night -- but too many new places have this deafening roar designed in. Southie is full of them: Coppersmith is one example of many terrible offenders on this score. I mostly avoid them except under professional obligation.