Day 2 in Dublin: Further proof that nothing good comes out of New Jersey

I woke up briefly to see Cathy off in the morning but immediately fell back asleep. I would finally rise from sleep at about noon, a bit hung over. After a quick breakfast at the bagel shop a few doors down from my hotel I was (somewhat) ready to explore Dublin. I knew exactly what I wanted to see. I had to go to that one special landmark that sets Dublin apart from the rest of the world; The Guinness factory. I received a map of how to get there from the women working the front desk of my hotel and decided to try and walk to it. I made my way north, up Harcourt and Grafton St. Passing the Trinity College area to the Liffey River. I walked along the river for what seemed like ages until finally I gave up and hailed a cab. I arrived at my destination and set out to learn about the fabled brew of this region. I must have spent a good two and a half hours there. The best part was reaching the top floor of the building and finding the Gravity Bar. At the Gravity Bar you could exchange your ticket for a free pint of the freshest Guinness in all of Ireland, tasty indeed. Not to mention the bar was a circular room with glass windows giving you an almost 360 degree view of all of Dublin and even though the weather reminded me of San Francisco in August it was none the less breathtaking.

























A short cab ride home and it was time to take a much needed nap. I awoke and checked my phone to find a text from Cathy saying that she was still feeling sick from the night before and would be going home after work. I would be on my own tonight. I toyed with the idea of staying in for a while but after hearing a female voice rushing down the hallway talking about “there’s a club downstairs, let’s go” in an eastern European accent I decided to freshen up. I walked through the door around midnight to find the place empty. Ordered up a beer and sat down to chill a bit. One of the bouncers who had seen me last night came over and chatted with me for a bit. A few rounds later I made a loop around the place as it had started to fill up. Clinking glasses with a few people as I walked by but my intentions of celebration and good times were met with looks of confusion. I thought to myself, what is going on here. Back to the bar, I was determined; I was now a man on a mission.

Another beer or so and I was ready to try again. I walked downstairs to the smokers section and asked this cute Irish girl for a light. As I began to strike up a conversation her three friends immediately pulled her away. This was looking bad! What the hell was going on? I knew I smelled good, body language maybe? Hhhhmmm… As I stood around the table contemplating what had just happen I was met by three ladies who wanted to share the table with me. As it turned out the three of them were from New Jersey. We cheersed over the north east and discussed what all of us north easterners do: sports, city pride etc… There was just one problem with these three. They were larger than life and excruciatingly unattractive. Now, I have no issues with plus sized women who weren't blessed in the looks department, god knows I’m not the most stunning beefcake known to the world, but when you’re unattractive, plus sized AND you have a crappy attitude, it’s even more unattractive. I know a handful of women who are big girls and not exactly attractive but they’re fun and have good attitudes. These three totally looked like the types that should not be in Dublin, rather back in South Jersey with a wardrobe full of Juicy Couture velour warm up suits taking care of three kids, smoking Marlboro light 100’s and gossiping away on the phone all day while their husband Ernesto (or, insert other generic Puerto Rican male name) is off at work making a walloping 10 dollars an hour and all she can do is bitch that he doesn’t make enough.

After chatting for a bit, the alpha female of the three decides it’s time to do some shots. I like shots! We approach the bar and take down a soco and lime shot. Next they decide it’s time to hit the dance floor. At this point I go from being slightly disgusted to utterly mortified. We dance in a circle and the alpha girl starts doing the Puerto Rican butt shake/grind as Single Ladies by Beyonce comes on. God help me. Thankfully they soon decide it’s time to have a smoke and we return to the smoking section. I grab a Guinness from the bar take a sip or two and meet back up with them, putting it on the table. Alpha girl tells me I’m buying the next round of shots soon. That’s fine, I have no problem with that but you're actually telling me this like I owe you the world? Give me a break bitch!

All of a sudden I hear that all too familiar piano melody with the underlying bass guitar, and then the lyrics come in…”Just a small town girl…Living in a lonely world…” Journey! Now, back home this song is normally held in reserve for the end of the night. It’s a song that speaks deeply to three different types of people. To the people who found each other that night it says get on the dance floor or start making out. To the people not lucky enough to find each other that night it says this is your last chance or you’re going home alone. Finally it signals the bartenders that their night is pretty much over. This is not the case here in Dublin; the club was pretty much packed at this point so that’s when they put it on, to get the crowd going. The four of us start singing along and are soon joined by the group of people next to us. We all form a large circle, drinks in the air, singing along.

Afterwards I get to chatting up this girl Anya, a cute, short Irish girl who lives in Dublin. She was there with her boyfriend and other friends. I wasn’t going to try and dash up on her, I’m a gentleman I don’t do that sort of thing. As we chatted away the three mutants started to get restless now that I wasn’t paying attention to them. Alpha girl comes over to me saying it’s time to do shots. I told her fine but let me finish this conversation first. Anya and I keep chatting and she tells me that she wants to come to Boston next summer. I fill her in on a few things and even give her my email address. In the midst of this alpha girl comes back at me again for shots. I tell her give me one minute, as Anya and I wrap up our conversation minutes later I turn around and they are gone…BUT SO IS MY GUINNESS!!! THESE TRASHY JERSEY MUTANTS STOLE MY BEER!!!!!! WHO STEALS ANOTHER MAN’S BEER???!!! Further proof that not only does nothing good come out of that state but that the difference between trash and girls from New Jersey is quite apparent.

At least they were gone and maybe this girl will hit me up when she comes to Boston. Maybe she won’t but at least I escaped the Jersey mutants. I never thought I’d say this but thank you Steve Perry! I made my way around the room again after acquiring another beer, chatting up some ladies as well as groups of people. After last call I made my way back to the room and passed out as the sun started to come up.