Following on from Cara’s post about the Clarence, here’s the story of why Dublin is one of my favorite cities on the planet.
In 2001, my partner and I went to Dublin for a few days. We stayed at the Clarence, drank in the Octagon, and ate an enormous meal one night in the restaurant (where the sommelier learned we were from America and wanted to extol the virtues of a wine called Marilyn Merlot. I am not making this up.) We were celebrating our anniversary, and after a dinner with perhaps more wine than was strictly necessary, we went down the street to the Kitchen, U2’s nightclub.
We were both 40 at the time. Temple Bar was full of Beautiful Young People. The Kitchen had the usual red velvet rope guarded by large, hiply-dressed men. And I remember turning to my sweetie and saying, Oh, yeesh, what if they don’t let us in? I have been given the arched-eyebrow treatment by some of the gatekeepers of clubs in New York (who had to let me in because I was On The List, and it just about killed them because I totally skewed their demographic). I really didn’t want this to happen at the Kitchen.
So we approached the rope, and one Large Well-Dressed Man smiled and said, Ladies, are you coming in? And held the rope aside for us.
I love that man.
We went in and explored, and ended up at the far end of the club (through several rooms, across at least one dance floor). There was a bar in the back, and we found a table, and we had some Guinness, and talked… and before we knew it, it was about 3 AM and the place was heaving with people. They were literally standing packed like sardines around our table and others.
And my partner walks with a cane.
So, you can picture it — 40-year-old women, one using a cane, who have had a fair amount to drink and now have to make their way through about a million Young Dancing Drinking People without being trampled in the rush to claim our table.
And here’s what happened: We stood up. A man of about 21 or so said, Ladies, are you going out? And when we said yes, he proceeded to walk in front of us, politely tapping people on the shoulder and saying, Make way, please, make way. And everyone smiled and made way. We never even got jostled, never mind trampled. He walked us all the way to the entrance, and I was so amazed and grateful for the grace of the moment that I kissed him on the cheek and told him I’d never forget him. And I never have.
I’m glad I got to go to the Kitchen. But more than that, I’m glad I found out that Dublin is a city of such kind and lovely people.