Originally published in print in February 2024.
Obituary written by close friend and confidant Mac Keller, pictured here.
P(adraig) Mac(Carthy). 10 years old in human years, ancient in Dublin Local Business years. Born in Dublin, on Stephens Street Lower, died there as well—similarly to an elephant.
P.Mac’s passed away loudly on Sunday, February 11th at 11:59 pm and ran into the arms of its maker: the great big landlord in the sky. At the time of their passing, they were lovingly surrounded by “hip” millennials, skater boys who will never text you back, the gays and theys, and the entirety of Trinity’s “indie” scene. Those who knew P. Mac’s saw it for what it was: expensive—but the board games, candelabras, and the John/Yoko sign made it incredibly Instagramable. With its charm and almost annoyingly hot bartenders, girls with tattoos they found on Pinterest flocked to it like moths to a flame.
Close friends of Mac’s adoringly referred to it as “Workman’s for alt kids that aren’t afraid to flirt by talking”, “cheaper than Bar with No Name”, and “a pricey place to blackout at.” Some personal memories consist of falling down the bathroom stairs completely sober and almost being kicked out for being drunk and disorderly, bonding with [redacted celebrity] over Maggie Nelson and rollies, accidentally walking into a booth where people were definitely having sex, taking my hometown friends here to show them that I indeed am cool and have good taste, and the many “I love your outfit!!!!” interactions with drunk women in the glow of its several neon signs.
If you were lucky enough to find a seat, whether a tourist or a local, you were privy to its delicious cocktails, numerous beers and ciders, and incredible music curation (thanks to the hot bartenders) playing constantly. Mac’s was a master of nightlife and knew what the people wanted: an exceptional Whiskey Sour. Now, patrons must find a new *sob* boutique bar to haunt and pretend they’re exciting and mysterious in. Though, fear not—if you feel you’re missing P. Mac’s a bit too much; you can journey to DunDrum to find their much larger twin sister—also named P. Mac’s—at the Sandyford Village Mall.
Their 30 taps were flowing until the very end, and the community rallied to give it the best last weekend it could’ve had, and gave themselves the worst hangover the following day. P. Mac’s felt truly loved in its final few moments, and when they turned off the music and turned down the lights, everyone who had a 2016 Twenty-One Pilots phase in the Dublin area shed a single tear. Stephens Street Lower will never be the same, and it will never smell as heavily of cigarettes on a Friday night ever again.
Those who knew P Mac’s loved and admired it, both despite and because of it all; and those who have visited will remember it forever – or not, depending on how many 7 euro pints you’ve had.
WORDS: Mac Keller
