Monday, May 11, 2009
Disgraces Guide to Rathmines - Drink!!
For a Village full of thirsty students, excommunicated fathers living in bedsits and jobless youths, Rathmines has a surprising lack of Pubs. Because of this, and a sticky keyboard, there will be a lot less exclamation marks in NATIONAL DISGRACES GUIDE TO RATHMINES - PUBS.
The first watering hole (and I mean hole) on ‘the strip’ is the Rathmines Inn. It is highly recommended that you skip this place. The Inn lives off the fact that it has a beer garden where al fresco drinking (next to the bins) can be enjoyed. I once asked for a bottle of Erdinger here and the Barman sneered at me. “We have none of that foreign stuff”. I had a Heineken instead. I have occasionally used it for the ATM near the toilet, and have taken great enjoyment in waving my freshly deposited cash in the barman’s face as I head off to spend it elsewhere
Moving on, it’s a fair trek to the next pub, so you may decide to nip across to the Spar for some street beer. You’ll have ample time to down your tipple before you reach the next hostelry, the rather insensitively named Toast (it used to be a fire station). Toast is the middle ground of Rathmines, not sure whether it’s a restaurant or a bar, so it decides to avoid being either. Its stock has de-valued somewhat in recent times thanks largely to a club night hosted by yours truly and a certain Mr Empire.
Pretty depressing so far and things don’t improve at all when you hit the next boozer. Lingering at the crossroads like a luminous sex-offender, the bright green facade and dirty windows greet you like lump of poo in your lunchbox. Where the Rathmines Inn has Carvery, the Madison has people who have probably ‘Carved up’ their victims. They have a Crimeline night where a free pint is on offer if you appear on the show. Disco lights are often in full swing on Dole day and the foods menu literally consists of ‘knuckle sandwiches’ and ‘Mashed Face’. This is high society folks. On Mother’s Day they advertised a special “three course lunch - 11.50 (includes free admission to Man II Man - Strippers) - This is actually true. Note: They actually search you for weapons on entry, and if you don’t have any, they give you some!!
After you’ve picked up your teeth from the toilet floor it’s time to move on. Try to avoid leaving through the front window as some regulars do and head straight across the street to the old world charms of Slatterys.
Slat’s is a haven from the hustle and bustle of busy downtown Rathmines. The image of a grandmother head butting a barman at the Madison is far away now as you take the first sip of the perfect Slats pint. This is a proper pub, where it’s advisable to leave your airs and graces at the door, although they will most likely be stolen by one of the Madison gang. The barmen and ladies have a weird sixth sense too. With a simple nod and a ‘Can I have a pint of stout please Paul’, you’ll be served up a pint of stout, almost certainly by Paul. It’s that attention to detail that makes a visit to Slats a winner every time. Ok, so there are no mirrors in the gents, but your chances of meeting a girl in here are very slim. And if you do, well they’ll have not seen a mirror for quite a while either. They have a cruel sense of humour in here for sure. Pop your 3 euro into the condom machine and rather than a packet of ‘sheaths’ you’ll get a written note.
“Ha Ha, you’re having a laugh right? Get back out to the bar. Another stout?, Paul”.
Where Kildare has Goffs, and Cork has its CO-OP Marts Rathmines also has its own cattle market. Follow the knuckle marks up the street and before long you’ll be stood in the cavernous halls of Rody Boland’s. It is here a man can meet the bearded woman of his dreams. Intelligent conversation is bottom of the list of priorities in this not so-super pub. Wearing a Munster jersey, or simply wearing the face off a woman who’s style icon seems to have been Giant Haystacks, Rodys ticks all the boxes for the sociable ‘sorta’ human. Warning though, the regular punters are quite touchy about the omission once again on the Michelin Star list as apparently the Goujons are impeccable.
So there we have it. Rathmines. If you want to have an enjoyable drink, hit Slats. If you have a hankering for a terrible and soulless experience with the added body blow of a Carvery lunch, hit the Rathmines Inn. If you want to buy some knock-off Timotei or Rolex watches, over to Madison. And if you want play a game off Russian roulette with your sexuality, hit Rodys and wait for the shock the following morning. Whatever happens, be good folks...
Ps, erm.. I love you.