These sham-rock stars are raising the bar.
On March 17, St. Patrick’s Day partiers from the world over will gussy up in green and descend on NYC for the world’s oldest and largest parade of its kind, drawing approximately 150,000 marchers, around 2 million spectators, and nearly as many bagpipes.
For the hardy army of bartenders working the front lines on Tuesday, the annual scrum will be the ultimate test of a malt-pourer’s mettle — think “Braveheart” meets “Cocktail.”
“St. Pat’s is like our Super Bowl,” laughed Sean Reilly, owner of Sean’s Bar and Kitchen near Times Square. “By 8 a.m., the bars start filling up. You really have to be able to handle the heat.”
The rush, the publican told The Post, comes in two waves — the morning, before the start time of the 265th annual procession down Fifth Avenue, and then post-parade, when things wind down around 4:30 p.m.
It’s an all-day, all-night affair, during which enough Guinness will be consumed to lay the population of the five boroughs low. (”You’ve got to wear your most comfortable shoes that you possibly could own,” Reilly admitted.)
“By the time the parade lets out, all those people that are out there watching it, they got to go somewhere,” said Reilly, who has worked the green-letter day in family-owned bars since age 11, starting by picking up empty glasses and carrying ice buckets.
For the leprechaun’s share of revelers, that “somewhere” winds up being Midtown watering holes like Sean’s on West 48th Street, a shillelagh’s throw from the route.
Keeping the hordes well-watered will wind up being a marathon-level event for Katie Reilly (no relation) of Paddy Reilly’s Music Bar — the Dubliner recalls working the taps at the Second Avenue spot for “16 hours” straight last year, and expects a repeat next week, her fourth St. Pat’s shift in a row.
“I started at 9 a.m., I think, and then maybe it was 1 or 2 [a.m.] by the time I finished,” the beer pourer sighed. “That was a long day.”
The secret to success, she said, is avoiding “disaster” by laying on enough Guinness — and having one tap jockey dedicated to pulling pints until the bar resembles a beer-pong table.
John McCorry, who owns the Tailor Public House on Eighth Avenue, told The Post that his crew must have poured up to 200 pints of obsidian-hued brew before noon last year, and will likely do so again.
“The Guinness doesn’t stop. It just keeps going on all weekend,” McCorry said.
Meeting the insatiable demand requires taverns to stock up as if prepping for Prohibition 2.0.
As owner of nine Gotham watering holes, including Connolly’s in Times Square, Bernie Reilly told The Post that he stocks the famed drinkery with 2,000 kegs for the big day.
That’s 20 times what they have for a normal week.
In fact, nearly a third of their yearly Guinness stores are imbibed on that one infamous day in March alone.
“We sell 7,000 kegs at Guinness a year — we sell 2,000 kegs on St. Patrick’s Day,” said Bernie, father of Sean but no relation to Katie. At Connelly’s, the party goes for nearly 24 hours — from 6 a.m. until closing time at 4 a.m. the next day.
Besides staying well supplied, a successful St. Paddy’s hinges on proper staffing. At Connolly’s, that means upping the number of bartenders from six to 24 across four floors — and tightening security to prevent any booze-fueled hootenannies from breaking out.
Past St. Pat’s debauchery at Midtown bars has included everything from brazen bathroom sex to a thief dressed as a lecherous leprechaun, loose-lipped bartenders previously spilled to The Post.
Connolly’s, Bernie explained, runs a tight ship — so far, they “haven’t really had an incident yet,” he asserted.
Despite the hustle and toil, Katie Reilly takes the St. Pat’s induced-insanity in stride, she said.
“It’s one day of the year, have some craic,” she said, using Irish slang for “a good time”
“You just get to have fun and meet so many people — and people from all over the world as well,” she said.
But don’t get too caught up in the festive spirit, Bernie Reilly warns his staff.
“Book that day off, and you’re taking the rest of the year,” he tells them.
