Kissing the Blarney Stone imparts the gift of great eloquence, as Irish legend goes. And I hope drinking a pint of Guinness at the Blarney Stone does the same, for the sake of this review.

            Tucked away in a corner of suburbia, the Blarney Stone is a tiny bar with a big mouth. The first time I had the annoying pleasure of entering its premises, I was hit by a side spill of beer from two clanking pints. Every face in the bar had turned and focused on them. The bearers of the beers chugged them to the beat of an acoustic guitar, played by an overly excited old man on a tiny stage. I instinctively joined everyone in chanting “Drink! Drink!” The drinkers did what was expected and nonnegotiable. And when they were done, both overturned the empty glasses on top of their heads to show that no wounded drops had been left behind.

            My spirits rose and fell with the glasses around me as I pushed to the crowded bar. I half laughed at the two bamboozled chaps who had been forced to guzzle down, knowing that it might be me soon. My friends sat cozily next to the stage, where the little old man named Tony Cummins played his guitar and spewed his Irish musical comedy routine.

            Tony stopped in the middle of a song and said to me, “That’s a mighty big pint you got there,” and then without hesitation, “Drink! Drink!”

            So yes, yours truly abided and did the deed. It doesn’t take much to influence me to drink. Filled with peer-pressured gulps, feeling like I got punched around by an angry Irish man, I found myself falling in love. Yes, I was drunk from a single beer, and falling in love with the Blarney Stone. Does it count as love if you’re drunk? Sure it does.

            That was a few months ago.

            More recently, I visited this watering hole expecting the same treatment. The usual suspects, my friends Laura and Stefanie, were there. But Tony Cummins was nowhere to be found. Instead, a couple of young guys, Harold and Gabe, drunkenly sang a faux-Irish song that is so perfect for audience participation: Living Next Door to Alice. When I settled in, Harold looked at me and said to the audience, “Ahh, look at that guy playing with the lemon on his Hefeweizen. He’s so cute.” However, to all’s surprise, Harold and Gabe didn’t make me chug the pint. I guess they were just looking to take hearty jab.

            A round of whiskey drinks later, Harold noticed a girl talking on the phone. He carefully and rightfully confiscated it and brought it on stage where it could be enjoyed by the rest of the class. “Adam? Or should we call Amanda?” He scrolled down. “Oh, I know, let’s call mom!” The girl rebutted with various forms of pleading, but was drowned by the moral majority of drunkards. The Send button was pressed, and seconds ticked by as the phone rang loudly into the microphone. “Hi Candice,” said Harold, “your daughter is here and she is really drunk and really hot!” The crowd cheered into the speaker, Harold hung up, and Gabe transitioned the show by rudely making some guy drink his pint. “Drink it,” he said. “We don’t make the rules. We just enforce them. Oh, you touched your friend’s pint. Now that one’s yours too.” (The girl’s mom called back a little worried, but that’s all.)

            There’s too much excitement at the Blarney Stone to detail here, and I think by now you have absorbed the atmosphere. So, perhaps I should give you some straight information. The best place for that is their website. Feel free to email them too. They actually responded to me.

            You can expect live music at the Blarney Stone seven nights a week, starting at 8pm. It hosts traditional Irish music (bagpipes, etc.), and open mic nights. On weekends, it has live coverage of international sports. Euro sport enthusiasts can enjoy Gaelic Football, Hurling, Rugby, and International Soccer, in addition to the major American sports. Although there is no cover at night, the big screen sports will cost you twenty dollars at the door for a peek at occidental glory.

            So for St. Patty’s, consider kissing the Blarney Stone. I hear they are planning a party.