Losing My Guinness Virginity
O'Donoghue's - the anointed pub
For years I've been told by Guinness Aficionados of the sacred and holy nature of a perfectly poured Guinness. Long before venturing to Ireland, I was warned by my Irish friend, Danny C, to never drink a Guinness unless the pourer was properly skilled at the art of pouring the nectar of the gods. His face would become solemn as he earnestly described the proper pouring process. I took his words to heart and decided I would wait until I made the pilgrimage to Ireland before I lost my Guinness virginity.
Before the trip started, my travel buddy, Janis, confessed that she too was a Guinness virgin. Our other buddy, Roz, upon hearing this news, was determined to be our madame. Roz, being an experienced Guinness drinker, researched and then decided the who, when and where we were to be deflowered. She chose O'Donoghue's Pub, a short walk from our hotel in Dublin.
Before the trip started, my travel buddy, Janis, confessed that she too was a Guinness virgin. Our other buddy, Roz, upon hearing this news, was determined to be our madame. Roz, being an experienced Guinness drinker, researched and then decided the who, when and where we were to be deflowered. She chose O'Donoghue's Pub, a short walk from our hotel in Dublin.
ANTICIPATION . . .
We asked our server to be gentle with us as this was our first Guinness. He lovingly explained that our beers would be out shortly; after the bartender caressingly poured the nectar of the Gods, our pints would need to sit for just under two minutes . . . the anticipation was almost too much to bear . . . .
At last - they arrived!
At last - they arrived!