My Father’s Place

My Father’s Place (MFP for short) is a bar wrapped in a diner wrapped in a 35-year (plus) patina of grease and grizzle. The diner counter—where pancakes and burgers are served—doubles as a bar where day-drunks can sit for hours on a swivel stool scratching lotto tickets, playing Scrabble or staring at the television screen. Come evenings, children are shooed out and hipsters, rockers and Southeast locals (i.e. hipsters and rockers) slide into the brown, cracked booths or behind the Buck Hunter screens, cheap beers and unaffected attitudes in tow.