By Jen Clapp, musician, nurse, community activist
I moved to Beacon in 2002 and used to buy wine from a shop on Main Street. One evening I was in there around closing time. While the owner and I chatted, a fellow the owner didn’t know entered the store.
“Sorry, but it’s after 7,” the owner said. “Law says I can’t sell you anything.”
“What about her?” the latecomer asked, pointing at me.
“Oh, she’s not a customer. She’s my dinner date,” the owner replied without blinking an eyelash.
“Where’re you going for dinner?” the man asked, suspiciously.
“We haven’t decided yet,” I said. “Maybe that Italian place over on East Main.”
“We went there last time,” the owner said. “Let’s try something new.”
The gentleman left the store, clearly defeated. The owner and I then had good laugh before I snuck out the back door with my wine, feeling like a true insider and a welcome part Beacon’s cast of characters.