A moment-by-moment description of why hurling might be better than going to Hurley's:
Our friend tried to order us some veggie burgers before we got there, but they came back and told her that they had just run out.
This was just in time for the kitchen to close.
The waitress refused to list the beers on tap ("Listen, there are 38.") or to give us a menu listing them.
She also neglected to bring me water, which was the only thing I asked for after 16 hours of flying internationally.
She cautioned us that one of the IPAs was bitter... A friend politely disagreed, and she kindly and condescendingly informed us that IPAs are bitter. It was helpful, considering I had chosen that particular night to taste my first beer. #puttingthe'patron'inpatronizing
It was overpriced, about $9 CA for one particular pint.
And the worst part? *no one* would join our friend in trying to get her Irish jig on to the live fiddle music. Luckily, we had four more days to change our minds about the city from our introduction via this basement bar. Know what else is underground? Hades. And hipsters. It's no coincidence.