The Blarney Stone Revisited

I haven't been here since my undergrad days.

We all went to The Blarney Stone, an Irish pub close to Gastown, but not before I stuffed my face at The Old Spaghetti Factory, even though I ate a TV dinner just hours earlier back home. The Blarney Stone has a dark, wooden interior like a lot of Irish and British pubs, along with coats of arms hanging on the walls. There's a big stage, and a Scottish or Irish band would play upbeat traditional and modern tunes for everyone to dance to.

Things haven't changed since then, really. The atmosphere is nice and lively and everyone is dancing and having a good time, as if to celebrate a victory against the British or something. I remember some of my undergrad friends getting so piss-drunk that when they do that twirly dance while linking arms with someone else, they accidentally flung themselves into another crowd, or on the floor.

But I'm much better behaved this time.