The quilted red pleather door held a diamond shaped window dead center, and hinged onto a smoky room, dim with neon beer signs and hanging pool table lamps. Johnny Paycheck crackled on the jukebox and every barstool, save two, stood empty. Three men in faded Levis, pearl button shirts, and mesh-backed baseball caps threw darts. The ancient woman behind the bar looked quizzically at a man bringing a young boy into a bar at 10:30 pm on a Saturday night in the middle of the winter, then gave us a welcoming smile.
Serendipity Lounge
