Thing 175 Stock the Bar

I used to work in Clohessey's Bar in Limerick. It's down on the banks of the Shannon. I was there for the guts of a year and a half, on and off. Thorny Wire was surprised to hear that in all that time, I somehow managed to avoid the shit out of the stock days. Yep. No sweating and lifting for me. Chubby people don't like sweating when it's not necessary.

I've tapped kegs, I've hauled crates of beer up and down stairs to restock the bar after service, I've emptied fridges and crammed them full of beer all over again. I've never been there to unload a truck of all of its precious cargo and cram it into the cold room.

There's big weekend coming up for the Heineken Cup; Munster versus London Irish. Clash of the titans (by the way, we always get screwed in our Heineken Cup group - we're top seed, it's not supposed to be permanently difficult, year on year), and the opening game of the Group in London. Here at home Clohessey's is going to be its normal self - effectively full of rugby fans, tvs, beers, banter and craic. I'm setting up my stall there for the afternoon. Which means stalls for Token Northy, The Canuck and anyone else who's rugby inclined.

The offshoot of this is that the order for stock was outrageously large. I assume it's outrageously large - I wouldn't know. But there was lots of drink... I'll give you the rundown after a photo of me being inspirational... or something.
600 bud

720 miller

120 bud light

120 bulmers light

720 bulmers long neck

840 pint bottles

48 bitter lemon

144 soda

240 tonic

48 white lemonade

48 ginger ale

240 cranberry juice

480 seven up

240 d/seven up

72 club lemon

480 coke

240 d/coke

240 sprite

1,200 red bull

60 miwadi

30 kegs of heineken and 1 keg of miller.

1 keg of miller? Too right. Who drinks miller? Honestly. And who throws a shoe? 720 bottles of it though... holy crap.

In the time that's elapsed since I stopped be a barman (which was an awesome job) in Claw's, I forgot how the world works. I forgot about the process of keg to tap. It became a magical process. I walk into bar. Here's some money. Thank you Mr Barman. Magical tap at the bar pours Guinness into a pint glass magically. What do you mean you've to tap a keg? Just pull the magic wand and make the Guinness go into the glass like you did last time...

Them there kegs are heavy, and they've to be loaded and then unloaded. They've to be moved and shifted. They've to be hauled, grunting and sweating into a cold room for service.

I want you to appreciate that the next time you've a pint of anything.

If you're in Clohessey's this weekend for the rugby, and you're drinking a pint of Heineken or a bottle of Miller... I'd like you to thank me.