Cromwell’s Irish Times
There are only a few places in Worcester where I just wont go. Then there are the places where I’ll go, but I wont like it no matter how hard you try and force me. We’re officially adding Irish Times to that second category. Sat night the lady and I went out to Boston and saw a group of crazy-badass Shaolin Monks perform at the Orpheum. On the way back we decided to stop at Irish Times. This never happens, I think I’ve been there four times in the last five years, but for some reason yet to be fully hashed out it happened this night. Walking up Main St it was impossible not to notice the crew of double sized humans employed by the place, going out of their way to mean mug all 150lbs of me as we approach the door. This is a great way to welcome people to you establishment. The only thing that could possible make someone feel more welcome is to frisk them after your ID is checked. No, seriously. At Irish Times in Worcester you get frisked walking through the door. When did people start smuggling hand grenades into Worcester bars? Whoever thought a pat down was the best way to welcome guests to your establishment is an idiot, really, fire that douche. The worst part wasn’t the frisking, it was the utterly terrible pat down that was troubling. If the most boring crowd in worcester really was sneaking cudgels, chains and pipe bombs in to see their favorite cover band, door-dude was not going to find them. With my arms raised in the air we made it clear there were no weapons in:
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1. my armpits
2. my outside coat pockets
3. my front pants pockets
4. inside my tin of Altoids? Are you kidding?
No part of my body where I’ve actually carried a weapon was checked, so I’m not really sure what the point was. But I spent more time getting frisked than I spent inside the place. The best door-guys in the world are the types who know they can kill you but instead treat you like you’re something special; and to his credit the guy who picked through my Altoids seemed like a real nice guy. He looked like he was starting to crack a smile when I offered him one, at least. But these are your hosts, whatever wonderful product you claim to be selling is irrelevant if the tone has been set for your business by a pat down. And since the owner of the place was standing outside less than five feet away from me, clearly he knows what’s up and approves. Which probably explains why most people I know couldn’t be bothered with the place.
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13 Responses to “Cromwell’s Irish Times”
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That’s nothing. Lord Vassar’s has a metal detector at the door.
yea, but its never plugged in.
I gather you did not mention that, having just studied the art of death with some Shaolin Monks, your body, was in fact, the weapon.
I had three monks in my altoids tin, got them in no problem.
They check altoid tins because the people that actually go to Irish Times to dance at Rehab (3rd floor) push ecstasy, etc.
Thats great, Jim. Problem is I could have had enough E to get all of Holy Cross high taped to my leg, but all I got was a stranger fingering my mints. If there is a drug problem (oxymoron?) at Rehab and the concern isn’t just for show, maybe the cop at the door should be upstairs.
The metal detector was pugged in when I was there, albeit that was a few years ago.
But anyway, you do understand this is moot point, yes? I mean, if their patrons were discerning enough to find frisking as off-putting and silly as you do, they wouldn’t be going to Irish Times in the first place.
I try to not be elitist and instead, simply appreciate places on based on their own merits, but sorry, I just can’t fathom the appeal of that place. It’s for the lowest common denominator who’ve culled really generic ideas about nightlife from zillions of hours of bad T.V. It’s boring, souless, dumb and it’s about as Irish as O’Doule’s, Lucky Charms and Riverdance, not to mention that this city, downtown in particular, already has enough of image problem without having a giant banner that reads “REHAB” flying over Main St.
I’ve blocked out all of my Irish Times experiences…or is it blacked out?
J.D.: You’re right, it’s only on St Patrick’s day they unplug the metal detector.
Linneadates: whatever you’ve blocked out, I have on tape.
An the lady got a friskin’ too?
I really hate Irish Times. I have not been there in well over a year and that was for some awards show. The last time I was there under my own will, it was a nightmare.
I don’t seem to understand what is enjoyable about IT or Blackstone Tap or Brew City, etc. I guess I prefer my bars with helpful staff that welcome my business instead of assuming I am there to cause them problems.
I would rather get a drink at a place where I have to wait than go to a place that thinks everyone that comes to the door is going to cause a fight.
And I have one big suggestion in case this thought ever crosses your mind. Never, ever eat at Irish Times. I am not a hard person to please when I eat out. Make me an edible burger and I am happy. They can’t even do that. My measure of pub restaurants is the burger. If you can’t do that right, what can you do?
I like Barnone, that is my fav bar in the city now, but it’s better during Mon-Thurs….on the weekends it can get a bit cheesy.
every Thursday (except for tonight)I am boozing it up at a Irish Pub in Somerville…I usually drive down Main from RT290 when coming in to the city and I always get the biggest chuckle when I see all those teeny boppers with crossed arms shivering as they wait to get in to the Irish Times..not one with a jacket…I chuckle but I also lament that this is one of the only things one see’s at night downtown:>)
Saw Davis Crosby & Graham Nash at Mechanics Hall a few months back..after the show it was one of the only places available for a post show beer downtown…I knew to go there but one could hear many complaining that there was so few quality options available
Anyway..tough to find a good pint of Guinness in the city…put an O’Connors or something like The Burren downtown and you would see quick renaissance