Moment of St. Patrick's Day Zen: Bar 107
On my way back from lunch at Blossom (vegetarian rice noodle bowl with mini egg rolls and a ginger, lime iced tea) I popped into Bar 107, the over-priced but lovable 4th Street dive and somewhat smelly house of zealous kitschiness. In honor of today's venerable green-clad holiday, the party-centric watering hole swung its doors open at 6 a.m., and I was curious to check out the scene.
At 3:30 in the afternoon 107 already looked as if it had endured drunken revelry of epic proportions. Sweat and whiskey spray made the air wet and dense and a raucous two-piece band growled out Irish folk songs with a guitar and a beat-up accordion. A bartender dressed like an overgrown Leprechaun aggressively wished newcomers a happy St. Patrick's Day while stumbling punk rockers and bleary-eyed college kids ordered Guinness and Jameson's, happily plunking the latter into the former with abandon.
It was a scene to both tickle and warm the heart; however, I felt deflated. I caught a whiff of quiet desperation in the air, but maybe that was just my own sense of sorrow at having to step out of the surreal hive of celebration and into the wind-swept daylight to make the trek back to the office. Drinkless.
For a full list of tonight's festivities, check out Charlie Amter's list of St. Patrick's Day parties in The Guide.
Photo by Jessica Gelt