Dan Lowry's Tavern, 13 MacCurtain St, Cork City, Ireland.

Dan puts forward a slobby slackjawed barman with a dirt caked t-shirt and the arrogance of Joseph Goebbels

If you’re ever unfortunate enough to find yourself in Cork City or south west Oireland a quick visit to this pub/restaurant is recommended.

My first1 visit here was on a rainy Tuesday morning intending to have a coffee; just to kill time and let the showers clear. When I entered the sight that confronted me still sends shivers down my spine: what I can truly describe as a troglodyte (dictionary definition — person of degraded, primitive, or brutal character) stood behind the bar.

He2 had an unnaturally shaped obese body, was soaked in sweat, had a generally filthy look about him and, without any doubt, was psychologically subnormal. He had on a ragged t-shirt which when new would have had a round neck, but now it was hanging down around his lower ribs  exposing his man-boobs – probably stretched out of all proportion by him having to constantly swat the nits that were surely infesting his body.

Apart from above described freakiness there were other things that this person had in abundance: egoism, arrogance, self-confidence and a sense of importance that can be only found in the mentally unbalanced.

And this piece-of-shit gave me a side-longs ridiculing look as I walked in, as if I should be honoured to be accepted into any premises that had him on its staff – he reminded me of the stereotypical lunatic who thinks he's Napoleon. You wouldn't even touch anything that had been withing ten metres of this imbecile let alone eat or imbibe whatever he might serve you. I momentarily returned his idiotic stare and then did a u-turn and egressed onto the street as quickly as possible.

A few day later I spotted the proprietor of this establishment standing at its door gawking up and down the street; having observed his slackjawed demeanor for a few minutes it became obvious why he had such dirty and repulsive staff, like birds of a feather flock together he simply hires those he can identify with.

A 10 metre meteorite could crash to earth within feet of this chap and most of those he has working in his pub and none of them would notice; but if a child came along waving a bunch of coloured ribbons they’d be glued to them like a cat to saucer of cream. ______________________ 1I returned a few times just to show acquaintances the disgusting set-up.

2The term slack-jaw was probably coined just for this guy.