I wandered into a bar in Redmond today to kill an hour (don’t ask). JJ Mahoney’s. It’s a generic Irish bar, and probably part of the Guiness Irish Pub Concept.
The good: quality Irish and English beers on tap, the bartender was nice enough
The bad: $5.50 for a pint those quality beers
I read the paper over my beer. Next to me, two drunk guys played darts the whole time, doing as well as you’d expect two bad dart players to do. This involved a lot of swearing. This was a little weird, because Mahoney’s has a big “family friendly” thing they’re trying to sell.
And it was weirder because there seemed to be groups of people who worked there hanging around, at one point complaining that because so many people worked there so little, they didn’t even know each other. And there was this whole vibe like… I wanted to link to the Onion article about the restaurant staff sleeping with each other, but I couldn’t.
So two things:
– the good thing about being drunk is that allows you to do crazy crap and laugh it off later. One of the guys there was grappling two women to get them on his lap while he had this conversation with them:
Drunk guy: “The two of you at once!”
Drunk guy: “Come on! How hot would that be!”
Drunk guy: “Come on! The two of you at once!”
Woman: “No! (Drunk guy’s name) stop!”
(guy repeats two/three things as the woman gets increasingly annoyed)
I’m actually a little surprised he didn’t get pepper sprayed.
But the thing is, say it doesn’t work. Laughs all around, boy, how drunk was I?
And if it does work… well, huzzah!
It’s not as good as having the drunk friend (“Hey, Rob here totally likes you…”) for deniability-so-you-can-continue-drinking-there, but it’s something.
– What the hell is it with women and children?
“Hey, –, are you from England?”
“I am. (boring bit deleted).”
“Are you married?”
“No, but I’ve got (three kids)…”
“You do? Do you miss them?”
“No. (boring bit deleted). I have to make myself not miss them, though, because otherwise I’ll start blubbering…”
“Awwwww….” (swooning from all within earshot)
I wonder if this an effective tactic for single guys. How far can you go with it? Will wearing a “Deadbeat Dad” shirt get you a certain kind of woman? Or does it have to be something like “I have adorable children I wish I could be with right now instead of you, but perhaps you can console me?”
Also, the group of whoever would split up so some of them could smoke on the patio, and whoever was not inside would bang on the glass with the darts (loud) and open the patio door to have conversations, letting in a massive cold, wet draft.
The staffers on duty seemed oblivious to the swearing, loud threesome proposals, and extended door opening. Which I should go write up on “Bad”.
Anyway: JJ Mahoney’s bar is a shitty place to kill an hour. For the first time in years, I wished I’d walked over to the Coho Cafe and bought my overpriced beer there.
Pubs (as opposed to bars) are fascinating repositories of the irrational range of human behavior. The fake-single-dad routine reminded me of “About A Boy.” Be infinitely and apocalyptically grateful to no long be “out there.”
Based on my experience of English and Irish pubs, that sounds like a very authentic place. Could’ve only been closer to its model if someone had been kicked unconscious. Come to think of it, why do so many barowners think those dubious institutions are something they should strive to copy in the first place?