I remember very little about this place, but there is something about it that does not ask to be remembered. I could not bring to mind a mental picture of it from back when it was called Jack's, and I don't even remember what it was before that. I remember, a few days ago, walking in, sitting at a wooden booth that was slightly too large to talk comfortably across, and then two drinks later, someone I had never met was giving me advice on how to deal with my bossy boss. What I am telling you is that they mix motherfucking strong drinks here, and there are worse reasons to go to an unremarkable bar. EMILY HALL