The number 13 gets a bad rap. It’s a perfectly fine number, but for whatever reason, 13 freaks some people out. But not us at the City Paper. Especially this year, our 13th year as Charleston’s premier weekly. So call us crazy, but we think the number 13 is, well, lucky. And we want to spread that luck around. Which brings us to this year’s Best of Charleston issue. As usual, it’s packed with readers’ and critics’ picks, spotlighting the best of the Holy City, from restaurants and bars, to music makers and public servants, and everything in between. They’re all lucky bastards.
Once upon a time, Jack — a young man of humble birth whose ancestors had never quite saved up enough to warrant a family name worth remembering — found himself before the Constable. Sworn to uphold the law in this quaint seaside town, the Constable twisted the corner of his mustache as Jack stood before him, dressed in tattered sackcloth barely fit for a worn-out mare put to pasture, no less a man. — Dustin Waters