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The smell of the previous night’s spilled ale wafted out of Porter Bar in Atlanta’s Little Five Points area and covered the sidewalk with its staleness. To say the closing crew hadn’t done the best job mopping up the previous night’s froth was an understatement. Porter Bar was famous for seriously dark beer. Their trademarked overfilled steins wreaked havoc on the floor’s aging wooden planks. Customers didn’t seem to mind though. In Little Five Points, the head on beer was considered a food group.
A bright reflection cascaded through the windows and onto the deep wooden tones of the bar. The bar was adorned with a smattering of half-empty beer mugs, steins, and porter glasses, the odd paper napkin, and a few plates left behind from the lunch crowd. Old-world woodwork dripped from the
