Our Two Cents
Take a stroll up Summit Avenue and you will come upon the minty Tudor faced palace of pleasure known as The Blarney Pub. Pry open that out of place steel psycho killer’s gutting room door and the fun begins.
Ambiance is early 70s suburban basement with 12 inch institutional grade linoleum tiles all around. The bar consists of light, honey-colored wood and is quite inviting with its cigarette burn tattooed top. During our stop in, communal Dunkin Donuts and various cheeses were on offer. Whether they were truly for public consumption or just for the regs that populated the bar, we do not know as we’re not the honey glazed and Budweiser chaser type. The bar is sensually sandwiched by numerous trophies, many which appear to be for bar league softball championships. At first glance, we thought there might be a backrub service offered, but the bodyworker turned out to be a patron’s main squeeze (pun INTENDED har dee har har!). Crowd is bearded, moustachioed, and decidely sliver haired. A deliciously yellowing suspended ceiling with brown struts finishes the decoration with a stylish close.
As for R&R, The Blarney enjoys a stunning technological timewarp provided by three rather large and well maintained flat screens. Megatouch is a welcome fixture along with a Monopoly pinball machine, an average pool table, and a jukebox that was either dead or powered down for the game that was being broadcast.
Spirit and beer inventory is typical for a neighborhood OMJ (old man joint). We didn’t bother asking for their wine list. Prices were nice with a Bud bottle and Jameson shot ringing in at a measly $7.00 for a newcomer.