Esquire Magazine Party at Eastern Standard

Today is a groggy morning because last night was a late one for a weeknight.

Around 6pm, I had a text from Meaghan, asking if I wanted to join her for a private party at Eastern Standard, celebrating their being named one of America's Best Bars by Esquire Magazine.

Of course I did! I hadn't been to Eastern Standard in a while, but always enjoyed the place. Great menu, excellent mixed drinks, cool lighting and decor, and friendly staff.

I asked her how she was invited to such an event, and Meaghan mentioned a piece she wrote for The Boston Globe about their head bartender Jackson Cannon. It turns out Jackson has quite the story about his journey to this high-profile position, and it truly illustrates his and Eastern Standard's commitments to an integrated customer experience at their establishment.

Her actual husband Dan had to work, so I had the honor of playing stand-in. Perfect! Iron a going-out shirt, quick shower, throw on some cologne, and off we go!

Right off the bat, I knew I had committed two fashion faux pas. First, the black shoes I often wearing going out are square-toed (which now appears to be out), and I left my button-down shirt untucked (also out). But, since it didn't look like a smock, it made me look thinner, and fashion trends tend to hit Boston late in the game. So I was good to go, fully aware that my errors flew in the face of the exact magazine / party host that preached said mistakes.

The photo I shot is a bit blurry because I had the lens focused on a distant point. Whoops.

This is exactly the type of party that is covered in photos by the Improper Bostonian, and that it was. Their photographer literally looked at us as a potential subject couple, but skipped us over three times, possibly because of my couture gaffs.

Again shunned by the Improper, I jumped back into the food and liquid comfort. A few more oysters, Manhattans, and Side Cars later, Meaghan began searching for Jackson within the crowds.

Instead of Jackson, we found the owner Garrett (who I had met before, actually). When Meaghan reintroduced herself to Garrett, suddenly she became royalty.

No joke.

It was a stunning transformation from party goer to superstar. Funny what a good writeup in the Boston Globe can get you!

Within moments, the bartender is mixing us special cocktails of their choosing, and we have a plate of fancy grilled cheese and fries, all compliments of Garrett. Wow.

Minutes later, here comes Jackson - with a big smile and a huge gift bag containing a designer cocktail shaker and four glasses that he purchased for Meaghan as a thank you. It seems that since the article came out a week ago, liquor sales have been up, and countless people have mentioned the piece.

Folks he does not know have been calling him by his first name as if they were old friends.

We stayed for another round (or two), and ended up leaving the 8pm-10pm party at 12:30am.

Hence, my groggy morning.