Patrick Kavanagh's
497 3rd Ave. (33rd St.), Manhattan
The decision to enter Patrick Kavanagh's happened after Karina noticed the two seats at the end of the bar while Sara noticed the balding heads. Later, Paul noticed that we were the oldest girls in the bar so he sauntered over and offered to buy us a drink. We accepted, primarily because Sara initially thought he was the guy who'd been unapologetically leaning over her to obtain Miller Lites. She was willing to accept half a pint of Guinness and an Absolut Pear an apology. Instead, it turned out, she accepted the drinks as a pick up line.
"Order your drinks," Paul said, smiling and somewhat swaying. "I'm going to make room for mine and I'll be back."
Since euphemisms delight us, we immediately liked him. He's 36 and seeking same-age entertainment, so we gave him our card (matches out of range of current operating budget).
"There's nothing on this!" he said. "What is this?!"
"You don't think it looks like the card of a stripper?" we asked in self-deprecation.
"It looks like the card of a weird 60-year-old man."
"There was a disconnect between online font size and actual font size."
That, as far as he was concerned, was not the main problem, but we moved on to discussions of Mormonism and meeting women while the bar's median age decreased.
The important facts: If soccer (that other football) or playoffs (the actual football) or any sort of professional sports are on the tele, the crowd will be of mixed ages. If the bar is actually a drinking establishment, the crowd will be AI.
One more thing: The bar is named for an Irish poet who said, among other things, these words: Actors are loved because they are unoriginal. Actors stick to their script. The unoriginal man is loved by the mediocrity because this kind of ''artistic'' expression is something to which the merest five-eighth can climb.
"...smiling and somewhat swaying."
I'm printing that on MY next business cards.
Posted by: Paul | January 24, 2010 at 01:44 PM