J.W. Crooker

"You don't exactly strike me as the kind of guy to order a salty dog," said the bartender at the Ocean Grill (2227 Seawall Boulevard, Galveston, 409-762-7100). Apparently, the typical drinker of a salty dog is a seagoing fisherman just returning f...

It was late afternoon when I stumbled into the Proletariat (905 Richmond, 713-525-4499), and let's just say happy hour was not in full swing (read: I was the only person in the joint). Despite slashed drink prices in the early hours, the proletari...

I was tired of the downtown scene, where big-haired, jobless 27-year-olds wearing skintight jeans were about the best you could hope for in terms of a little action. It was time to head out to the burbs and look for a rich divorcée who migh...

Bored with my usual hangouts, I pulled up a barstool at Marfreless (2006 Peden, 713-528-0083) and asked for something peculiar. The barman offered me a Pimm's Cup, a slightly bitter gin cocktail that had only one thing going for it: a cucumber sli...

My friend was vacationing in Mexico, and I imagined him passing the hot, sultry days sitting on a barstool submerged in some fancy hotel pool and drinking cheap, no-name tequila. As I grabbed the martini-handled door to the Davenport (2115 Richmon...

As the sun sank slowly in the west, a sharp wind howled down the Westheimer corridor, blowing dust and construction debris into my eyes. A beat-up Ford pickup truck gunned it through the light and damn near creamed me into a telephone pole. Great,...