Could really go for a pint right about now

Driving down Fairfax I see a couple news vans have scored spots right in front of Molly Malone’s. A man wearing a green plastic bowler hat crosses Wilshire. Further south, the parking lot of Tom Bergin’s is already overflowing. It’s 9:15am. I smile to myself. It’s St. Patrick’s Day.

I can’t help but think of St. Patrick’s Day 1999. I somehow managed to land a bar gig at Cooper’s Alehouse just north of Greenlake, despite having zero bartending/waitress experience. Cooper’s became my home away from home in the scary un-tethered months between graduating from college and packing up the Civic to search for fame and fortune in L.A. Before I left Seattle for good I ruled that bar. I was able to pull pitcher of Mirror Pond Pale Ale while splitting a black & tan with my eyes closed. My favorite smell became that of the walk-in where I changed kegs with Rex at the end of the night, a mix of strong hops and marijuana. We had 26 rotating taps and I could talk like a lover about each and every one. But when St. Patrick’s Day 1999 hit I had only been working there for about a week and a half, I was greener than a four leaf clover. A deer caught in headlights would have been scared for me. The rowdy crowd hit the door at 4:00pm and didn’t stop even after we fudged bartime past the 2:00am cutoff. They were loud and drunk and wet and drunk and loud and rowdy and drunk…but more than anything, they were happy. On this night there were no fights. There were only friendly slaps on the back and hugs and swaying at the bar while singing out-of-tune. After the last drunk had been pushed out the door, Kevin, Rex and I just stood there staring at the pints of Guinness in front of us. I was exhausted and I could barely stand…and I wanted to do it all over again.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!!!
gretch

I almost started crying when I found these pics of Cooper's online...