Guffs started with a moment in a Baltimore airport. My wife and I were waiting on a flight when we noticed an older couple arguing back and forth, matching suitcases at their feet, a lifetime together stitched into every exchange.

We like to make up stories about people we see, and at one point I leaned over and said, “That man gives no more guffs.” We laughed, and the phrase stuck.

On the plane I said, “If we ever have a bar, we should call it Guffs.”

Years later, when we finally had the space, the name was already waiting.

Guffs became a place to gather, to celebrate wins, sit with losses, watch games, or simply show up and feel at home.

Some bottles are marked to remember who was here and why it mattered.

Guffs is not about bourbon. It is about belonging.