One good thing about this steaming hellhole that I call the ...
... unnamed port city. It's this.
No, I have no idea how an authentic Irish thatched cottage got built in the middle of a bustling unnamed port city in the deep South. But I do know that it was built by authentic Irish thatchers*. And that it has specially trained real live Irish draught pullers working the taps. At least they sure sound authentic**.
Oh yes. It's a great place to go and have an Irish pint and salmon dip too, at any hour after 10 am. Also, it's the last place I ever took my dad to have a beer. He got a Harp, since he was not an ale man, and only a half pint at that. When I was working on my book during the summers that I stayed in the port city I would go there in the afternoon when it was almost deserted have a few pints and write.
When Carmen left the Social Security office to marry me (an unusually fortunate occurrence for me***), her coworkers threw us a party there. It is also the place where I almost proposed (ie I thought I was proposing, but I was unusually vague that day****). Still, it was an important link on the way to the altar. And I owe it all to the Irish. James Aloysius not least.
Addendum: Here are some of the other watering holes in the port city*****.
* Don't know about their work status.
** Ibid.
*** as any and all of my friends frequently remind me
**** must have been the Guinness
***** how many of these have you been to Mr Sobrino?
... unnamed port city. It's this.
No, I have no idea how an authentic Irish thatched cottage got built in the middle of a bustling unnamed port city in the deep South. But I do know that it was built by authentic Irish thatchers*. And that it has specially trained real live Irish draught pullers working the taps. At least they sure sound authentic**.
Oh yes. It's a great place to go and have an Irish pint and salmon dip too, at any hour after 10 am. Also, it's the last place I ever took my dad to have a beer. He got a Harp, since he was not an ale man, and only a half pint at that. When I was working on my book during the summers that I stayed in the port city I would go there in the afternoon when it was almost deserted have a few pints and write.
When Carmen left the Social Security office to marry me (an unusually fortunate occurrence for me***), her coworkers threw us a party there. It is also the place where I almost proposed (ie I thought I was proposing, but I was unusually vague that day****). Still, it was an important link on the way to the altar. And I owe it all to the Irish. James Aloysius not least.
Addendum: Here are some of the other watering holes in the port city*****.
* Don't know about their work status.
** Ibid.
*** as any and all of my friends frequently remind me
**** must have been the Guinness
***** how many of these have you been to Mr Sobrino?
posted by Clemens | 12:22 PM
3 Comments:
I have checked out four...
Yuengling Brewery,
Grand Cru (now no longer in business...they were a bit pricy),
Hogan's (one of my favorite places to grab a sandwich and a beer and MUCH closer than downtown/ybor), and of course,
Four Green Fields.
--Joey
I bet Four Green Fields was the best - for the company if nothing else.
Hehe, naturally :)
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