The Snug • 223 Congress St • Portland, Maine

Perhaps I should mention…

We’ll be open at noon on St. Patrick’s Day!

St. Pádraig’s Day

I have always had a hate/hate relationship with St. Patrick’s Day. Now that I own a pub, the experience is a bit more complex. My previous perceived flaws in the day had less to do with crowds, excretions, and general baffoonery. It had more to do with the nationality-switch-em-up thing. Not being Irish myself, but being related to enough of them, I’ve often wondered why the frenzied zealot “I’m Irish” shtick. However, now that I DO own a pub and I am legally obligated to recreate an atmosphere that screams “a leprechaun exploded in here!!!” I have made peace with the day…sorta. While I  have an even greater disdain for excretions and baffoonery, I enjoy the large crowds much more than I used to. At The Snug, anyway, the patrons seem a little more silly and a lot less horizontal.

It just took a little getting used to, that’s all. I’m thinking this, our third St. Patrick’s Day at The Snug, will be the smoothest to date.

March 17, 2007…1st Snug St Patrick’s Day. Will anyone come? Did I order too much Guinness? Did I order enough? Sure I’ll have a shot of Patron to settle the nerves. Where is everyone? Why isn’t my bartender Bob here? OK, yeah, another shot of Patron sounds like a good idea…make it a double. Jesus, I’ve hired too many people to work today. Patron, Patron, Patron, yada, yada, yada…I’m eating chicken quesadillas, wrestling green dye from a customer, impolitely comparing one sorry individual to Barry Gibb, but otherwise enjoying my maiden voyage.

March 17, 2008…2nd Snug St. Patrick’s Day.  Learned valuable lesson about drinking on St. Patrick’s Day from previous year! Biggest blunder of ‘08 was to underestimate the increase in business from ‘07. Seemed quiet enough at first. Had time to run out and get Michelle some corned beef and cabbage. Chatted idly with BF and even sent him on his way telling him I’d be home soon. Before he made it to the bottom of Franklin Arterial, the wheels came off the bus and I called him in a panic to come back and help with washing glasses. Three hours before the rest of the staff was scheduled to arrive, Troy got dishpan hands, poor Sven rolled up his sleeves and went from Managing Partner of a PR firm to bar-back, and I repeatedly threatened Michelle with termination if she made one more martini. Once Brian and lil Andrew arrived, the evening wiled away peacefully…except for the cash register getting stuck shut around midnight!

March 17, 2009…3rd Snug St. Patrick’s Day. I’ll fill this in on Wednesday. Here’s hoping that everyone arrives with a designated driver, drinks plenty of water, and has a wonderful time!

Parking Bans R Killing Me

Because I was experiencing Co2 issues and awaiting a possible service call, I HAD to go into the bar today. However, I prepared myself to do some fancy, fast-talkin’ with Sully in order to convince him to come to work tonight. If he was hesitant about showing up, I missed the cue. Due to the 84th parking ban of the ‘08/’09 winter season, he would have to park his van 4 blocks away. No worries. In fact, he had already arranged for a ride from his vehicle to The Snug. What the? He had just gotten back from a week-long ski trip. Was it THAT good? Hmmmm. I reiterate that there is a 6pm parking ban tonight….6pm…not 10pm. Yup…I’ll be there at five he says. What the…?

Anyway, the point of this post is not to illuminate Sully’s enigmatism (yes, I do believe I just invented a new word!), but to play the What The F*¢k card. What the frig, City of Portland? Seriously, it would be one thing if, when I arrive at 223 Congress Street tomorrow at 4:03pm…like I do…there were parking spaces available, but you and I both know that, if I find ANY spaces at all that don’t require Hankook Zovac HP W401 winter studded snow tires to barrel into, I’ll be teetering on a 45º ice ledge with the ass-end of my car just begging to be dry-humped….AND THIS IS CONGRESS STREET. Cumberland will be a death-defying, nail-biting adventure all on its own, climaxing with a rousing game of you go…no you go….no you go…you back up…no I’ll back…wait…I’ll pull over…oh, you want me to go?….no?…what? from Franklin to Washington. Seriously, I’m asking the City of Portland, as politely as possible, if you’re going to hobble my business with ridiculous parking curfews because you need to plow….PLOW. Not just one swatch down the middle; you can do that with cars parked along the side. I mean, actually plow…the entire road…parking spaces and all.

Personally, it would behoove me to ban parking bans altogether. Check it. Go ahead…plow the cars into their spots. The drivers will walk or get a cab home…and they’ll happily dig themselves out in the morning! I’ll arrive to the bar at 4:03pm…like I do…to find the same jaggy, impossible-to-park-in mess I always do, but with a few more sheets in my wallet cause the custys didn’t have to bail at 6f*¢kingPM!

Thank you very much, City of Portland, for your attention to this matter. You’re very pretty. Please don’t revoke my license.

Welcome

Welcome to the new and moderately improved website for The Snug! Keep your pants on while I gather more pictures and think of hilarious things to blog about.