Just bear with me here and read the set up, kind of lengthy but just truck through.
The bar was dimly lit with candles half burnt out, the wax melting onto the wooden bar. The smell of tobacco spit on the ground and cheap cigars filled the bar, making it almost impossible to inhale deeply without gagging. The beer was warm, the only redeeming grace this seemingly hole in the wall establishment had was that the whiskey was strong. I ordered a glass straight up and took my seat in the corner of the bar facing the door so I could see who came and went. It was the end of September 1773, and America had just won it’s independence and England recognized the sovereignty of the United States in the Treaty of Paris.