Ginger count : 1

Thursday night, September 3, was a highlight so far of me week in Dublin. My roommate is in the study abroad program, which differs from my program, an exchange student. I physically take someone's place at UCD, while they take my place at UConn. A study abroad student just enrolls in the school and doesn't take anyone's place. I was made sure of this important difference during orientation Thursday. The study abroad students were granted a welcoming reception consisting of finger foods and wine. I decided this was not an opportunity to pass up free food and most definitely not a chance I'd pass up free wine, so I tagged along illegally, drinking their wine and eating their sandwiches. Hey, all's fair when you only get 70 cents to the dollar. During the reception we met some boys from Boston who go to Bentley and they asked us to come out with them that night. We have yet to meet any boys that are Irish, or American for that matter so we got ready and went out with them.

The boys went to the student bar and naturally, the girls went home to change. Somehow, during the 30 minute clothes change, the boys managed to acquire a fifth man to the mix, an large Irish man named Finch. He is stocky, definitely a ginger, with glasses and constantly carries around a backpack. Finches parents live in the mountains, so he never goes home, just carries the backpack with clothes in it so he can crash on people's couches and have new outfits for the next day. Finch is also a fifth year at UCD and assures us all that he knows his way around the city. We decided to follow him in his quest to find us good beer, good discounts, and youthful Irish men.

The first bar we went to was called Malloy's. It's located right on a gorgeous river. It's four stories high with seemingly infinite bars all over the place. We picked the third floor and had our own room practically to ourselves. We all bought Bock, a 4 euro beer that the pub brews themselves. It was better tasting experience than I had with Guinness, and I hate to say it, but beer is definitely growing on me. All ten of us were sitting at a table, when a small Asian man comes over with a platter of free sandwiches for us to eat. We had no idea what any of us had done to deserve these free treats, but it was a feeding frenzy for the masses as people plowed through the free h'orduereves (I can't spell that word). The night then spontaneously busted out into a dance party consequently after The Black Eyed Peas "I got a feeling" came on. One of the boys, Chris pushed the tables apart and back away to make a dance floor, and suddenly it was an all out American dance fest in Malloy's third floor. We were greeted by two women, who seemed to enjoy dancing a little too much. It was a bit.. intense for my liking, but hey who am I to judge? Finch, or Big Red as some of the guys dubbed him, decided to lead us in a completely wrong direction to go to the second bar. Note to self: this will not be the first time Big Red lets us down.

We wander all over the kingdom of Dublin aimlessly. I am amazed by the architecture to even realize how long we were walking. We get to a corner and decide it's best to pull out a map and see where we are. After pin-pointing our location we find that the second pub is just a few streets away. We get to Flanary's, which is small, packed, and hot. I make a b-line to the bathroom while the others move on to their second drinks. After the bathroom, which is basically a swamp, my friend Becky and I decided it's faster to get a drink if we go to the lower level bar. We wandered down the ramp and I spot the man of my dreams. He's tall, dark hair, and cute as hell. His name is Connor. I decide this would be a good time to pretend I have no idea what's going on. So I ask him "Hey what's good to drink here, that I can get in a pint?" He returns with, "Pints aren't very ladylike". Apparently, women in Ireland drink glasses, which is half a pint and men drink pints. But, why am I supposed to get the shaft and not be able to drink as much alcohol as the next man? Not fair I say. So I just reply with "Well, I can't afford any vodka at the moment, because all I have is 5 euro, and I need a cab ride home." He turns around, buys me a vodka tonic, and says, "Don't worry about it, I'll make sure you get home." At this point, I'm ready to run away with this man and get married. We ended up talking the whole night and he's a neuroscience major at Trinity College. A definite keeper. He took my heart when he left that night, and I hope to see him soon.


The night ended at Eddie Rockets, which is Europe's cousin of Johnny Rockets. 4 euro fries and a cab ride later, I'm home in my bed at 4am, and in love with Dublin.