J.J. Conley lounges against the cushions of a private room at Lucky’s. He studies his glass of Syrah and takes a sip. He is a smallish man, elegantly dressed, looking something like an aging GQ model. He isn’t the scruffy commoner you would expect to be running a burger joint. But Conley’s is not a common burger joint–for decades it has been a curious, almost intimidating place to eat.
© 2012 This Land Press.
