Drinking Consultants

If you are still following this silly blog of mine (btw- i swear off doing this project ever again-way too much effort required), this will be the last post from what turned out to be a fantastic trip. However, I realize that i must now deal with the proverbial elephant in the room -- and that is the stereotype and lore of the Irish people drinking a lot.

But like i stated at the very beginning of our trip and this blog: I'm not going to waste your (my) time trying to defend my people. Sure, I could come up a bunch of stories of famous Ireland inventions (like Guiness beer in 1778) or conquests (like King O'Brien kicking the asses of the nomad the Vikings in 951) or economic improvements (like the 12% corporate income tax that has attracted business in 1995) or the...

Sorry, I digress.

But the hard truth of the matter is: Drinking is the one Irish stereotype that would be hard to undo. After touring this big green island for a good solid week, i can personally attest and confirm for you there are a lot of pubs in Ireland and the Irish are really quite good at drinking.

Allow me to give you an example. It's Wednesday morning, and we stop in this small town, Adare, where the girls are getting ready to do some shopping:
(Is it just me; or does Wendy have a look like she's done this before to you, too?)

With the girls now focused on spending some Euros, Dave and I are like, "Okay. We'll go grab a pint." The pubs generally open up around mid morning. And it's not really hard to find a pub over here; theres like frickin' 8 pubs in this tiny little town. We choose the orange one on the corner. This place is over 200 years old:

We saunter in and i notice we're the only ones in there on this wednesday morning, except for another customer. Now, take a look at the only other customer we find.

Thats right: It's a nice quaint 90-year-old Irish gentleman and his wife (she's patiently waiting for him) to enjoying a pint of Guinness at 10am in the morning. Like he probably does every GD day! Now you see? THAT'S someone who's good at drinking.


So this old guy is pretty cool and lets me take this pic while im trying not to laugh too hard. We try to converse but his gaelic accent is literally so strong its hard to understand what he's saying.




Meanwhile, the pub owner has cued up our pints of Guinness:You notice he is proud to introduce us to his grandchildren. And what you may also detect about this photo is something unique i began to understand about the Irish and their pubs: its a place where people in the many small towns in the land go to gather with friends and family. In America, you go to a bar to meet (single) people or invite friends over to your house to socialize. Here in Ireland, you meet up with friends and families in the local pub. This is where the Irish go to gather; young and old. Many pubs today are a grocery store, a restaurant and then also have a bar in the back. Pubs date back to the middle ages where people gathered to tell stories, sing and exchange gossip. Probably one of the best things about pubs is: it pissed off the British so much they attempted to deem them illegal in the 19th century. (Yeah nice try, Gov'ner.)



Question. Would this innocent little history lesson be enough to overcome the stereotype of the Irish being drunks for you... I mean after all, they gather in pubs and there just happens to be alcohol there, right?


Nah.






Anyway -- and we did see a few characters:

"Top 'o the mornin' to you. Might ye spare some change?"

"Feck"








No. I did not stop in here.









After a while everyone got into the act. (No, that is not a beer Owen is holding in his hand.)



However later on you can see a problem developing: things start getting a little blurry and you really dont care if you get the right amount change back. You just feel the need to order more Irish Car Bombs. Yikes.




This photo i took after we ran into this Irish lad who had been drinking all day long with his friends (like 15-16 drinks or something) and was gleefully open to proving to me how racked he was. So i popped one Euro coin in the Breathometer for him. And he blew a score of 738. His buddy slapped him on the back with pride. He apparently just missed his career high of 780-- which like translates into blowing a 2.6 on a roadside test if you are a big heat-on living in America.




Just to compare. I had maybe 4 pints of Guinness that afternoon and a Car Bomb, and had to try the Breathometer. I blew a score of only 110. So our Irish friend had something indeed to be proud of. Those guys laughed hard and gave me a lot of s--- for being a such lightweight, believe me.




To wrap up, I will leave you with one of our favorite photos. Its a shot i had to wait and wait to take (so he wouldnt get pissed at me for candidly taking his picture) while he sat there with his buddys all afternoon watching the British Open on the telly. Its of this older Irish gentleman sitting alone at a pub in Lahinch. The bar stool next to him is empty; as his friends have finally all gone home. But he's like: "Hey, screw those guys-- I'm going to take my sweet time and finish my pint of Guinness."



Slainte!