Czech Inn

I forgot to talk about the Czech Inn. It definitely holds a special place in my heart.

This man looks a lot like Mr Bean, but he is not. Sal showed up to play at the Czech Inn in Ireland. He was enamored with my friend, Aimee, and thought she had lovely eyes. He actually told her he hoped no tears would ever be in her eyes. He even gave her a rose. IN A PUB. Where he got a rose we will never know. What we do know is that he was amazing, and he took the night from boring to extraordinary. Unfortunately, after he bought her a drink, Aimee ignored him for the rest of the night. He confronted me on my way to the dance floor. He wanted to know if there was anything he could do to have my friend. I told him I was sorry, but I thought she had a boyfriend. Poor Sal… he left heartbroken.

Sal was only the beginning of the crazy men of the evening. Somehow, I eventually ended up dancing with a bald, tatted Polish man who couldn’t quit pursing his lips, flexing his arms, and pulling at his pants to accentuate his crotch. He was also wearing too much metallic clothing. It was very entertaining, and I think there is a picture of him somewhere. Towards the end of the night, our group somehow got too near a group of French guys that were making out. (I know, weird and disgusting). One of the French guys tried to dance with some girls in the group and eventually told one of the girls he was sprung. We’ll just leave the story there.

We visited the Czech Inn the next night hoping to see Sal, but Aimee told him she was leaving very very early the next morning to go back to the states, so I’m sure he was at home crying.  It turns out that without Sal the night was just not as fun.

The Czech Inn will always be my favorite bar in the entire universe.


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