I’ve moved to a city that doesn’t believe in happy hour. In fact in Massachusetts it’s illegal for bars and restaurants to hold happy hour on drinks.

I found this out as I lightly mentioned to my boss that I was hoping to check out a bar called Pier 6 to see if they had good happy hour specials.

“Yeah … too bad Boston doesn’t have happy hour”

Que the jaw drop, the babbling “what?!” and completely shocked expression on my face. Some of my best moments out started with happy hour!

I spent some time thinking on it, and I’ve come to realize that I’ve always thought that happy hour goes far beyond keeping me happy for just an hour, or even the couple of hours that drinks and food are on special.

In my experience, happy hour makes us sing a little too loud in the car on the way home, and sometimes (if you’re lucky) even makes your quietest friend sing along.

Happy hour makes you and your friend search for the best deals, scrolling through menus on your phone before you finally decide on a bar. Only later you go back, high on happy hour, and binge watch shows while taking on an entire pizza pie between the two of you.

Happy hour makes you a regular at the mexican restaurant on 8th ave between 56th and 57th. So much so that you pass by the bartender on the street and he cocks an eyebrow and asks “Margarita margarita?”

So maybe I look back and think that some of the best nights out started with happy hour, but they ended with a whole lot more. Cheesy photos of me and my friends, a bar tender who considers me a regular, and receipts of all the post happy hour food consumed is what has me contently reminiscing.

Happy hour, you will be missed. But the truth be told, it was never about you. It was about the people, the places, and the memories made, which is exactly why happiness can never be limited to an hour.