"We've played this song 3 or 4 times tonight, but if you guys really want to hear it, we'll have one more go."
I'm at Dublin's most famous pub, Temple Bar. I'm standing by myself drinking a Guiness and watching a folk duo play live music.
99.99% of the time when I go out, I do not magically meet the girl of my dreams. But here I am, standing in a corner, hoping that someone will approach me and ask me if I'm an American on vacation.
I am! And I'm in Dublin all alone just waiting for someone to take pity on me. We can walk around the streets of Ireland all night talking about life. She could be my Julie Deply, this could be the night that changes my life.
But alas, no one takes notice of the aging Southern California bro dancing by himself in the corner. To be fair, it's been a very long day of travel and I haven't done much but drink beer at my hostel and challenge random strangers to play Billiards. It's kind of a bust, I tell myself. But, whatever, tomorrow I'll be reunited with friends...and friends of friends. My wild European adventure is right in front of me. But still, it bums me out a bit that I couldn't manufacture a memorable night on my own.
A drunk Irishman bumps into me and spills his drink all over my shirt.
"Sorry mate."
'It's cool man.'
This is the most in depth convo I've had with someone all day. He offers me some snuff because apparently that is a thing here. I politely decline and resign to head back to my hostel and get a good night's sleep before my trip really picks up in the AM.
But what fucking song was that band talking about?
That's the type of shit they say at Piano Bars when someone requests "Don't Stop Believin"
Are the Irish really into 80's power pop?
It would seem unlikely as the two songs that have garnered the biggest reaction thus far were "Valerie" by Amy Winehouse and a Johnny Cash medley.
I decide to have one more beer, a Smithwicks, I order this mainly so I can prove to the bartender that I know how to properly pronounce it 'Smitticks.'
What fucking song are they going to play?
In Pulp Fiction there was the briefcase.
In Infinite Jest there is that god damn 'entertainment.'
In Seven there was something in that fucking box that gave John Doe the upper hand.
What is the Irish Folk Duo's Freebird?
"Ok you cunts, one last time. This song comes from a movie you may know called P.S. I Love You..."
The house goes absolutely fucking bonkers.
"This is Galway Girl."
I took a stroll down the old long walk
Of the day I-ay-I-ay
I met a little girl and we stopped to talk
On a grand soft day I-ay
And I ask you friends, what's a fella to do?
Because her hair was black and her eyes were blue
And I knew right then, I'd be takin a whirl
Down the Salthill Prom with a Galway Girl
Ok, so I guess it's a somewhat catchy song, but after the anticipation the climax is extremely unsatisfying.
I finish my pint and make for the door, but my path is blocked by a man in a spandex yellow shirt, blonde handlebar mustache and red tights.
"WHERE ARE YOU GOING BROTHER?"
I'm looking at Hulk Hogan, or at least a man dressed like him.
And then from behind me...
"HULKAMANIA IS RUNNING WILD"
Wait, what the fuck? There is another Hulk...and then another, and another. Soon I realize there are 10 of them. A Hulk Hogan bar crawl.
'Sorry, not tonight boys.' A bouncer shuts down their advances into the bar.
'We're at capacity and your outfits are a little much.'
I see the devastation on their faces.
"But sir..." I meekly interject. "These are my friends from uni...I studied abroad here, I just landed, they dressed up as Hulk Hogan because they know how much I love wrestling."
The bouncer seems unimpressed, but he seems to take pity on me, the boy who has been politely bobbing his head in the corner all night...alone.
'You guys are with the American?'
"HELL YAAAA BROTHER!"
'Seriously cut the shit.'
One of the Hulk brakes character, "Sorry, yes we studied abroad with Mark."
'Fine, come in...no funny business.'
The Hulks escort me into a smaller room.
'What's your name mate?'
Dave...not Mark.
'Where are you from?'
Venice Beach.
'Califronia is pretty liberal, do you care that the Hulk might be racist?"
No, NWO for life.
'Well Dave, welcome to the Hulk Hogan bar crawl.'
It turned out to be a bachelor party. We were all kicked out of Temple Bar about 10 minutes in because one of the Hulks dropped a signature leg drop on a stranger that was 'acting disrespectful.'
It was my second straight booting from Temple Bar. In 2008 I was removed when I knocked over 3 tables and 17 beers in a drunken stupor.
'Plenty of bars Dave, let's get pissed."
We make an emergency run to McDonald's to get Double Cheeseburgers 'for strength' and then make our way to a pub called Quay's.
We walk in and the leader of the Hulks (Nick) smashes his pint on the ground.
What's wrong man?
'The bloody cunts are here!'
I look across the bar and I see 7 Wonder Women.
'That's my fiance mate, we weren't supposed to meet up. She's doing her Bachelorette tonight as well. She's into comic books and shit.'
The Hulks and the Wonder Women make contact. It is awkward for a bit until one of the Hulks (the black one) reaches behind the bar and steals a bottle of Jameson. This unites the group and we make quick work of the bottle. It isn't long before the dance floor is exclusively 90's WWF wrestlers, female super heroes and some awkward kid from Venice.
I find myself dancing with a shorter, jet black haired Wonder Woman.
'How did you end up with this lot?'
Umm, I really don't know.
'Well you seem nice, better than these savages. I'm Reilly by the way.'
Reilly and I dance a while. A surprising amount of N'Sync and Backstreet Boys is played, thus my dance moves are relevant.
Eventually Nick (The Bachelor) accuses a Danish guy of trying to dance with his bride to be.
Things escalate. One of the Hogans smashes the Dane with a bottle. Holy fuck.
One of the Danish guy's buddies tosses Mike through an open window onto the street.
Police sirens blast from all directions.
'Nice to meet you Dave, I think it's time for us to go.'
I follow the short girl out a back door and run two blocks toward Millenium bridge that leads me back in the direction of my hostel.
After we cross she plants a quick kiss on my lips.
What was all of that about?
'The little ruckus at the bar just now? That's a Sunday in Ireland love. If you think this is bad, you should see Galway where I'm from.'
Of course she's from Galway. She pops across the street into an empty cab and is gone.
I walk along the river back to my hostel, sirens blaring in the distance. I would live to think all of my Hulk Hogan brethren got away, but then again a yellow shirt with red tights isn't the most inconspicuous outfit.
A Spaniard at the hostel offers me a cigarette when I get back.
'You have a fun night man?'
You know what, I really did.
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