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Guinness and jigs and birthdays

January 18, 2010

Man that’s quite a subject to live up to. Anyway, last night I tore myself away from a dudes hang of whisky and cigars and walked about thirty blocks north to Paddy Reilly’s, where, somehow, I’d convinced Britt to meet me. The aforementioned dudes were content with roof smoking and football and I couldn’t sell them on the urban hike and ethnic music. I’d been to this place a couple times and was going last night for beer and music with plans to assail the fiddle player about some sort of instruction.

It was $5 at the door, which was kind of a bummer, but we got in the back and once the band started we both agreed it was well worth the fiver. It was a funny crowd. You had college kids, a fair amount of the yuppie contingent (it being Kip’s Bay and all), a couple suits and a few old ladies who really, really liked to dance. We both had a surprisingly fantastic time and it felt like some sort of gigantic, dysfunctional, hilarious family event; it was some dude’s birthday, a young lady ate it on the two steps down to the bar and drinks were handed to a pink tie-wearin’ guy who was apparently on the flight that Sullenberger landed on the Hudson. Britt was greatly impressed by this.

The band was The Mickey Finns, and yes, they played mick music and it was a toe-tappin’, hand-clappin’, drink-bangin’ good time. They’re playing next Saturday night as well, so go pay your five bucks and knock back some Guinness! Or whatever you like to drink. I’m not sure they’ll let you get away with soda water.

On a side note, while the fiddle player was utterly unstoppable, he was absolutely no help on where to find lessons. I told him I don’t really read music and he said he didn’t either, he “just kinda plays.” Anyway, go next weekend and check it out. If you hate it, I’ll give you your $5 back. And stop being your friend because you have no soul.

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