It’s Saturday night. You’re at your place drinking with a few friends deciding what to make of the night. Everyone offers suggestions but no one seems to agree. Do you want to go to a packed club to listen to all the bangers you hate, or do you want to be low key in a quiet pub? To help you decide, here’s a list of what your choice in the popular nearby bars says about you.
Ale House: You made a last minute decision to go out, none of your friends had a better suggestion so you ended up at Ale House. Or you’re in second year and you’ve been planning on going to Ale since Monday. You could also be an athlete that used line skip to quickly pick someone up at 2am on your way home from a party. No matter what, you are generally an uninteresting person.
Stages: You’ve made the switch from binging on Adderall in the library to binging on MDMA on the dance floor. Your end game for the evening is to wind up in a stranger’s pants. You abide by your weekly routine and rarely break it. Going to Stages is part of your ritual.
Red House: You are a special snowflake. You don’t adhere to majorly popular notions of ‘fun’ and enjoy beer that has been made to taste bitter and unenjoyable.
The Brooklyn: You’re either a bro that thinks they’re a hipster or a hipster that thinks they’re a bro. There’s a 40% chance you have a manbun and a 100% chance that you have a firm and well articulated opinion on the local music scene (it was much better 2-3 years ago).
Fluid: The line was too long at Stages. Or you’re part of a club that is having a night out and have decided to take over Fluid because it’s funny. The Fluid managerial team knows their bar is a joke, but if the joke is people swarming to their club to buy $2 drinks, they’ll laugh the hardest.
The Brass: You need to get up early tomorrow but still wanted to go out for a drink.
The Toucan: You’re A) a grad student, B) a prof, C) a townie, or D) a local musician in a gaelic throwback band.
The Spot: The line was too long at Ale, Stages, Fluid, that random kegger, and basically everywhere else that sells alcohol. Either that or The Spot was your first choice for the night, and you are a crazy person. If you’re in the latter category, you went out wearing a large hooded sweater, boot cut jeans, and shoes you bought for $5 from Giant Tiger. You know, a townie in between jobs and prison sentences.
Tir Nan Og: It’s actually Thursday instead of Saturday and you’re there to be coerced into doing karaoke. Oh, who are you kidding, you love karaoke. You hope that you get an encore for singing ‘Sweet Caroline’ and that there’s a record producer in the audience. She sees your potential and decides to fly you out to New York City to sing for the label Executive. They love you, too. You sign a $200,000 contract up from with the option for $2,000,000 over the next 3 years after the first album.
When you are recording your album something happens. Your killer voice just isn’t up to the standards of the record company. Your producer knows something is wrong, so they pull you aside to see what’s the matter. You tell them how you left your girlfriend to come out here, and have been having doubts about your decision ever since you left Kingston. The producer gives you the week off to deal with your feelings, but stresses that the record won’t hesitate to drop you if you can’t perform.
You spend the next week mulling around in New York City in your cardigan and army boots. You spend hours walking the city streets, wondering what’ll come of your life and of this awesome opportunity. You do a couple open mics to remind yourself why you’re here. You can’t stop thinking of her, but you know that you had to be selfish this time in order to be happy.
At one of your open mics, you meet a guitar player/songwriter. She’s amazing, pretty and incredibly talented. You decide to write some songs together in your hostel. She is the missing piece of the puzzle you needed in your life. She is your muse. You bring her into the studio to record. You make magic together. The producers can’t articulate how excited they are for this record, it is truly the most amazing piece of music they have ever heard.
It is a week before the album drops. There is already a lot of buzz about it on Pitchfork and online music forums. Something is wrong though. You are in Love with your co-writer, but you haven’t told her yet. She has a boyfriend, and you both made a point to keep your relationship purely professional and platonic. You go out with her a couple nights later to celebrate the album drop. It is one of the most fun nights of your life. You end up at her apartment. This is when you make your move.. but she rejects you. This sparks a long conversation about the realisticness of continuing as a duo. She says she cares about you but she doesn’t think about you that way.
You go back home. You cry the hardest you have in your entire life. The album comes out, it’s a huge success as anticipated. People want to hear you play live, but you can’t, because you know you can’t play together anymore with the same energy and effervescence as before. The album is critically acclaimed, but you never record again. You look back on this episode in your life as one for growth, self discovery and learning.
But you are not in New York, you’re back in Tir Nan Nog, staring off into oblivion. You’ve been daydreaming for the last 10 minutes. You girlfriend is at your side, looking at you lovingly. She asks, ‘what are you thinking about?’ you reply ‘…nothing’.