And you call yourself an Irish pub.

OK, so now it’s Saint Patrick’s Day. Being all on my lonesome with it, my husband gone to visit his sister for the weekend and all, I spent the evening on a sort of Boulder walkabout (well, walk-and-Hop-about, what with that bus being free this evening). I had this vague notion that I wanted something heavy and yummy for dinner, like a hamburger or a shepherd’s pie, and that maybe I should seek such things out at, I dunno, someplace purporting to be Irish.

Look! I even wore green! See that splotch down the middle of my YES concert T-shirt? So there.

Kerrigan’s supposedly would fit the bill. A ten minute walk from my door, bands playing all night long, sure, why not. Well, here’s why not. Not the crowd–you’d expect a crowd at anywhere purporting to be Irish on March 17th, and anywhere else that might serve beer, and anywhere else that might, by serving dinner, possibly attract all those crowds of people that are desperately avoiding the crowds–no, the crowd wasn’t my main reason for not going inside. Nor was it the loudness of the place. Nor was there anything wrong with the music. It wasn’t that.

It was this: A whiteboard sign outside the door that said, “IRISH MENU TODAY 10AM – 10PM”.

OK. The place is called Kerrigan’s. That sounds pretty Irish, right? Right. And all year round there are mobs of Guiness-logo shamrocks scattered all over the window facing 30th Street along with a far too cute cartoonish leprechaun. And the font in which the windows are lettered is extra gothic calligraphy. And the “K” in “Kerrigan’s” is done up all Book Of Kells style.

But the whiteboard sign said, “Irish menu today.”

Look. If you’re going to puport to be running some kind of Irish pub, me bucko, you’d better bloody well have an “Irish menu” all year round! Every day, from open to close, not just for a paltry twelve hours every March! Good lord, man, if I’m going to brave the crowds on Shamrock Day for a good hot plate of bangers and mash and a pint of something dark and frothy, it ain’t gonna be some Steel Yards upstart that only manages to get its Emerald Isle on for one day out of the three hundred and sixty four!

(It didn’t turn out to be Conor O’Neill’s for me, either, because that line was constantly out the door and aronud the corner all night long. Since they do run an Irish menu all year round, I don’t have to stand in that line and brave the mobs of drunk college students wearing glittery green sproingy antenna headbands just to get me some black and white pudding and a pint of Craic. I can wait until tomorrow noon, or next week, or halfway through the summer if I have too.)

(And it’s just as well that I didn’t go tonight, because apparently Conor’s also was advertising “Irish menu tonight”–how is that different from any other night there, really?–and they were serving green beer. I am content to continue going along with my life without encountering more green beer than is strictly necessary.)

I ended up downtown at Tom’s Tavern on the northwest corner of Pearl and 11th. Pleasantly casual, busy but not a long wait for a table, perfectly adequate burger, decent selection of beer, surprisingly good macaroni salad alongside the tasty fries, toleably thick chocolate milkshake. And apparently the place is directly under one of the Pearl Street Mall wi-fi repeaters, because I had five bars on SSID “Pearl”. So I munched on hamburger, read online forums, drank my Odell’s 90 Shilling Ale, and then headed home again.

Like I said, the Hop was free tonight. What with Saint Patrick’s Day being associated with drunken revelry and all (and isn’t that a change from its original religious significance across the pond), Go Boulder probably wanted to keep as many of our ruffian hands off our steering wheels as possible. I caught a ride on Hop #9 all down Pearl to 30th and walked home from there. Got to see a police car setting up the cutest little speed trap I ever did see up by the RV supply place, and hear some guys yelling to their buddy in the fitness center next-door to Big O’s Tires “Got a CD? You got a CD?” while a black stretch limo waited for them to pile in. So it’s all true, the drunken revelrous ruffians are out tonight. Safe drive, y’all.

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