It was Colm’s 30th birthday last Tuesday. Being the dutiful boyfriend, I had a few surprises in store for him. After work, we arranged to meet in AKA which is fast becoming one of my favourite bars in Dublin. While I was waiting on him I realised that I was nervous. In fact ‘nervous’ doesn’t quite capture how I was feeling — let me change that to ‘bricking it’. It was almost as if I was on a first date with this guy whom I’d been going out with for nearly three years. A quick ring round my trusted buddies told me that it wasn’t really nerves, but more excitement. (At this point, let me mention that my friends are still in shock that I could keep a secret for more than a week. I think I may have a reputation of being a blabbermouth.)
Anyway back to AKA. I must say there are some fine looking people who drink there. A lot of French I’ve noticed. (Am feeling a bit randy today, so that will explain if I go off at a tangent and mention cute guys.) Anyway really back to AKA. Colm arrived at six, we had two pints of Bud and then we headed over to Trocadero. The place itself was lovely. Lots of reds and blacks, mirrors and velvet. Just what we’d expected. The meal was gorgeous as well (we were a bit piggy with the wine and had a bottle each).

At one point in the evening, both of us were convinced that Brian from Big Brother was seated a few tables away – it turned out to be a guy (very camp) who had obviously been told he was the spitting image of our national hero and was playing it up to the nines with a Brian hairstyle, Brian clothes, Brian gestures. Pity it wasn’t him though – we’d been told that this was the place to come to see well-known faces. Unfortunately for us the nearest we got to a well-known face was a signed photo of Paul Daniels with the legend “That’s Magic!” scrawled over his balding head.

At this stage in the evening, Colly thought we were going to a bar for a few drinks. Needless to say, we weren’t. I had planned for us to spend the night at Clontarf Castle Hotel. He has always wanted to stay in a castle and on my post-Christmas budget Clontarf was ideal. Somehow I got Colm into a taxi without letting him know where we were headed. At different stages of the journey he thought we were going to the airport (my heart sank a bit at this!), the ferry docks and Fairview Park. I’m very happy to report that we both had a fab night; Monsieurs Moet and Chandon helped keep the night sparkling.

On Saturday night a gang of us met up for Colm’s birthday drinks. Let me do a headcount for you. There was my best friend Jimi, his boyfriend Robert (who is hopefully entering the next Alternative Miss Ireland, I’ll keep you all posted), Doreen, her fiancé Gavin and her sister Maureen (I know, Doreen and Maureen, the parents must have loved that ‘oreen’ sound around the house), Chris who’s an Aer Lingus steward, Sean and Vanessa, editor of Irish Tatler.
While Vanessa and I got down to discussing who’s pissing who off in the media world (wouldn’t you like to know!), the pint glasses were emptying nice and steadily. Two tables away from us, it was good to see the drag queen crowd out of their dresses and having a few drinks. Brendan Courteney was with them – I must say that man works his ass off. I’ve met him a few times at launches and it sounds as if he’s always off doing something. And sure why not if the money’s good and you’re having fun!

Toward the end of the night, Sean came back from the toilet with a disgusted look on his face. It seems the toilets were at flooding point – and our table was right beside the FIR entrance (FIR is Irish for man, so if you’re ever in an Irish bar and looking for the men’s bogs, it might be worth remembering this; MNA is the women’s by the way and not just a mispelt MAN). In the end, a very unfortunate Spanish guy had to mop up the excess in the urinals. Can you imagine! I just hope he got good tips that night.

After the Front Lounge (or to be more exact the Back Lounge), most of us headed over to see what the new gay bar in town was like. You’ll forgive me if I don’t get its name right. I’m pretty sure it’s the Wig and Pen, although it could have been the Pig and Cow as Jimi called it.
I’d read the review carried on this website that said not many people (and the reviewer meant not many, i.e. one or two) were going to the bar. Well, I’m glad to report that it was pretty much packed on Saturday night. The bar is divided into two areas, front and back with the bar in the middle. The back looked like the place to be but since we arrived so late all the seats were taken, and it didn’t look the type of place where you could just stand around. The clientele were of all shapes and sizes, predominantly men in their 30s I would have said. Possibly part of the (now closed) Lynch’s crowd. We got seats at the front and started making penis shapes out of the candle wax. I feel obliged to mention that Doreen made the most impressive one. We can be very creative when we get drunk!

The bar stopped serving around midnight so we headed off to the one bar that lets anyone in and doesn’t have a cover charge — Isolde’s Tower. There was actually a good mix of gay and straight in the upper bar, although it wouldn’t be my first choice of venue for a night out. Maybe if there was some sort of ventilation it would improve the situation. Don’t get me wrong, there IS ventilation in the form of fans. It’s just that they are pointed at the bar staff and not the customers. Doreen and Maureen turned one of the fans our way only to have a harassed young Chinese barman grab it back. 

Colm and I ended our adventure in a Nitelink bus headed for Rathfarnham. I know that I’ve mentioned in a previous diary entry that I would never get a Nitelink again, but at half three on a Sunday morning you don’t really have a choice. I don’t think I’m exaggerating any when I say that there was a riot on the bus, which ended up with a gay older man trying to fondle a teenager who had been making fun of him. I think we’ll walk home next time!

More Soon…  
Tim - January 2002
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