Chapter 23: Malady’s Irish Pub
6:20 P.M.
Matthew McDestin picked me up at my Tudor on Willow Street in his forest green Jeep Wrangler, which was a slight turn-on for me, and drove us to Malady’s Irish Pub for dinner, a few drinks, and thick conversation.
Malady’s smelled like wheat inside, which was heavy in my nostrils. The place was comprised of oak picnic tables and chairs, very little amber light, and Irish music. Green beer could be purchased year-round and the pub was known for the best sausage-potato hot pot in the tri-state area.
A man who goes to Malady’s for dinner is not one who thinks about his waistline. Truth was, the Vanmer Vipers were known to hang out at the pub, calling it their own. The place was not a jock-bar as others were labeled as such in Vanmer, but it was fre
