Thursday, January 17, 2008

This could get ugly . . .

It's official. I'm in love with Madison.

About a hundred feet away from my apartment's front door lies Mickey's Tavern. Nestled at the end of Williamson St. on Madison's East side, it's a kickass little place that was once a house. Now its a full fledged bar with awkwardly cool little rooms, filled with colorful couches, decor, and what-have-you. I was also told it's got a badass beer garden in the summer.

This could get ugly.

There's no doubt in my mind that my roomate Dan and I will fall victim to becoming the 'locals'. And I'm perfectly ok with that. Upon entry last night, we walked in to see about 10 musicians playing Irish folk music in a bar no bigger than your living room. Really, it's that small. We were mesmerized. I don't even think we talked for 10 straight minutes, just glowing in the sheer awesomeness that is Irish folk music. I forget what beer I had - but I had a lot of them. Dan decided to strap the helmet on and order about 5 Jack & Cokes, which he proclaimed to be 'STRONG!' It's amazing how much you can drink and not even realize it. Especially when you've got some good tunes goin. One of the females playing the fiddle even hit on Dan at one point.

This place is awesome.

Between the guitars, fiddles, violins, clarinet, and little flute-piccolo looking thing, this one guy busted out bagpipes. They weren't Scottish bagpipes like the ones you're used to, oh no. This was an IRISH Bagpipe. The fiddle-player sitting next to him tried to explain how it worked to us (mainly Dan), but (a) I was too busy looking at the guy playing it, (b) i was nearing the stage of drunkenness, and (c) his accent was thick, and slightly incoherent. Regardless, it was awesome. He went on to say that the group of them just get together every Wednesday night and jam. And that they've done it for 20 years now, but the owner feels like he needs to switch it up and get some new music or just do something else in there. Please owner of Mickey's Tavern - do not do this. It's a Wednesday night. Let the Irishmen have their fun in your bar that's no bigger than my fist. Please? We ended the night with a great idea I had - "Let's do Irish Car Bombs!" Our bartenders of the night, Kurt and Dan, obliged. After listening to us babble on about how we live less than a block away, we triumphantly slammed our shots. And they paid for them. All four of them. "Welcome to the neighborhood." Kurt said.

This could get very, very ugly.

*note - apparently this place isn't even Irish. Upon further investigation found online, Mickey's owner is actually German, and his real name is Milton. Milton's tavern doesn't sound nearly as cool as Mickey's though, does it? Screw it - it my mind, this place is, and will always be, Irish. They have Guinness on tap, and the Car Bombs were speeeectacular. What more do you need?*

Look, Irish Bagpipes! >>>

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