Twinkle, Twinkle Littlest Bar.

Downtown Crossing's infamous Littlest Bar is closing its grimy doors after 60 years of service to Boston's booze-bags. To make way for, you guessed it, detestable yuppie condos. Gentrification usually isn't a bad thing, as far as I'm concerned. I'd rather live in close proximity to Biff and Buffy than crackheads and hookers any day of the week. Especially after my well publicized incident with a crackhead hooker. And by 'any day' I'm referring to Saturdays - because that's when their rates go up.



But now we're talking about the demolition of a stagger-inducing institution. A lowly liquored landmark loved by lots of lushes. I've written about this wonderful and historic establishment before, and there's also a gallery of photos from Jim's b-day that were taken onsite. My first date with a former girlfriend took place at the Littlest. I took Triconi there the night before his engagement party. I'm seriously bummed. If you have any memories of the Littlest that don't include Monster necking with a sea donkey, please share them in the comments below. Good night, sweet pub.