Cheers, to Two-Hundred Fifty Years.

Thursday, September 24, 2009 marked the 250th anniversary of Guinness here in Ireland. Apparently it's a huge cause for celebration all over the world as well, there were television screens in the pub we were in with live feeds from everywhere in the world. The rules were as follows, at 17:59, (5:59pm) everyone was supposed to raise a pint of overpriced disgusting Guinness in honor of Sir Arthur Guinness who started the Guinness brewery on September 24, 1759. We were all done with class relatively early and wanted to get to the pubs early to get a seat. We travel in huge packs so to find a place where we can all fit comfortably is a challenge. Especially, when Ireland has an excuse to drink, we knew the pubs would be completely packed. Around 4:30pm we went to a pub called O'Neils to celebrate. It was a really cool, quaint, traditional Irish pub. The decor inside was eclectic and fun to look at. We went up to the fourth floor and sat in front of a big white projector screen where they were showing the live feeds of all the cities participating. I waited until around 5:30 to reluctantly go up to the bar and get my pint of Guinness. I wrestled with the idea of just not getting a pint at all, because the thought of the black beer grosses me out. I gave in, and purchased a 4.80 euro pint of the black stuff. At 5:59 they gave a cliche 10 to 1 count down and we all raised our glasses and toast to the man Arthur Guinness himself.



After we all finished our pints, Caitlin, Sarah, Lisa and I decided it was time to eat dinner. A street or two down from Grafton Street, which is the main shopping and tourist street they have a restaurant called the 'Gourmet Burger Kitchen'. It was good and definitely needed because we went out after. I was really nervous the entire week because I still don't have any form of ID since I had my wallet stolen. I was nervous about going out and not being let into the bars. The only form of ID with my picture and birth date on it is a paper copy of my passport. I luckily didn't need to use my ID to get into the first pub we went to for the toast, but I just wasn't sure that my paper passport would be enough evidence of my legality to drink in Ireland.

We went out to a two places, the first place we went was Fitzgeralds, another traditional Irish pub with live music all night. I swear, every where we go as a group, we're always the loudest and most obnoxious people in the pub. My entire group of friends was surrounding the man playing guitar shouting for him to play some form of American music. He settled on Tom Petty, then rounded out his set list with what seems like the anthem of my trip here, American Pie. My friends all formed a mosh pit in the front of the pub and danced until American Pie was over.

In between Tom Petty and American Pie there were some traditional Irish folk songs that he played. I was just sitting against the wall with Sarah and all the sudden a man, quite possibly around 85 years old comes up and takes my hand. He starts slow dancing with me in front of the entire pub. I am completely shocked that I am dancing with a man who could very well be my grandfather, and we have not even exchanged pleasantries. I don't just dance with old men that I've never met before, but as with many times on this trip, there's always a first for everything. After twirling me, he asks if he could dip me, and I replied politely with no, because I don't think his frail arms could even attempt to hold me at that angle. I try to find a reason to leave, and find my option in my friend Sarah who is unsuspectingly sitting against the wall. Old man now goes up to Sarah and steals her away in the same form he took me. I assume he does this sort of thing often. The awkward dance didn't just happen once, but twice. After he takes me for round two of this wedding dance extravaganza I decide I need to leave before it takes a turn for the worse. We head out of the pub and cross the street to a bar we've been to before, Messers.



Messers is a four story pub, with great music and always a good time. It is also the first place that I have to show my ID to get in. I am completely nervous and shaking as I walk up to the bouncer and present my case. I plead with the doorman that I have a paper copy of my passport and he looks at it, laughs and says that it's fine and he hopes I have a good night. I instantly felt better because the past few weeks have been iffy and not being let into a pub when I am actually of age would be the icing on the cake. Thankfully, it was not the case. We walked in and stayed at Messers until about 12am and then decided to call it a night.

Walking back to hail a cab, we all notice the streets lined with shattered pint glasses. Over all Arthur's day was fun, though basically just an excuse for the Irish to drink. I'm beginning to understand that any excuse, is a good excuse for the Irish to drink.