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St. Patrick’s Day behind the bar isn’t a shift — it’s a sport. Imagine running a marathon, but everyone’s wearing green and asking for another round.
Every St. Patrick’s Day needs credibility. Luckily for us, we have Eóin.
Yes. An actual Irishman. We checked.
In the middle of the madness, while the rest of us were trying to remember how to spell “Guinness” under pressure, Eóin stepped up to deliver what we proudly called the real Irish experience. Think proper pours, correct pronunciations, and subtle judgment when someone ordered the green beer (he argued, but tradition won).
He even built a custom playlist for the shift — because apparently blasting one Irish-adjacent song on repeat does not count as cultural representation. Who knew?
If you listened closely between rounds, you could hear authentic Irish tunes floating through the taproom… right before someone yelled “ANOTHER ROUND!” and shattered the vibe entirely.
Here’s a behind-the-scenes look at Eóin’s day on Tuesday, March 17th:
11:30 a.m. — Optimism
The doors aren’t even open yet, but someone is probably already outside in a full leprechaun suit. We respect the commitment.
The kegs are checked. The green beer is flowing. Eóin is calmly queuing up his carefully curated Irish playlist.
We feel prepared. We are not.
12:00 p.m. — The First Pour
The first pint of the day is poured. Eóin nods in approval.
We feel powerful. Professional. Prepared.
We are none of those things.
1:00 p.m. — It Begins
The crowd thickens. The green gets brighter. Someone yells “Sláinte!” with confidence and absolutely no accuracy.
Eóin gently corrects pronunciations between pours like the patient cultural ambassador he never asked to be.
His playlist is working overtime — authentic Irish tunes weaving through the taproom.
2:00 p.m. — Peak Chaos
There are now three lines:
One for beer.
One for seltzer.
One for people who just want to tell us about their Irish ancestry in great detail.
Glasses are clinking. The floor is sticky. The leprechaun from this morning has returned and is somehow louder.
Eóin is still steady. Still pouring. Still Irish.
4:00 p.m. — Survival Mode
We stop checking the time. We measure the day in kegs instead.
“Is this our third one?”
“No. Fifth.”
Someone asks if we’re tired.
We laugh in bartender.
6:00 p.m. — The Second Wind
The early crowd fades. The night crew arrives. They are somehow more energetic and at least 30% greener.
The playlist is still going strong. At this point, it feels like the soundtrack to our marathon.
7:00 p.m. — Emotional Support Pretzel
We collectively realize we have not eaten. A soft pretzel is split behind the bar like a sacred ritual.
Eóin finally admits this is “a bit busier than expected.”
Understatement of the year.
8:00 p.m. — The Aftermath
The last pint is poured — and it goes to Eóin for a job well done.
The music fades. The floor may never recover.
We mop. We laugh. We question our life choices.
And somehow… we’d do it all again next year.