Often overfilled with college and university students, part of the appeal of a place like the Blarney Stone is actually its rowdy na’er behaved crowd.
There’s a reason why the Blarney Stone has always appealed to the broke and bothered youth of post education: it’s cheap. Well, relatively cheap, for Vancouver’s often pretentious over priced crowds that flock to clubs in their three hundred dollar Prada pants. It’s the anti establishment club that takes you as you are, in your jeans and over-sided shirts, your denim jackets and tousled unimpressive hair (guys only on that last one ladies). It’s not about how you’re dressed; it’s about how much fun you’re having before you get home and try to “un”dress.

There’s no “dancing” in the two level joint that has recently been overhauled (thank god—the last time I was there I was awfully close to falling through the beaten down wooden flooring). Those on their Irish journey here tend more so to adopt the “jump like a crazy person dance” and the “stop around with a pint” technique, often with due twirling and spinning mixed in for randomness. The live Killarney Band (actually from Ireland!) do their best to appease a crowd that could be their own children, but it’s the Celtic flare here that the crowd waits for - a welcome break from the bass and grind of the city’s Top 40 clubs currently infatuated with hip hop.

It seems there are no rules here either. Freedom runs amok, judging from the glorious faces on the young crowd, likely ready at any moment to pack their bags and make a trek across country with the rest of their student loan. It’s a good testament to the club itself; the place inspires, if anything. Here, you’re always a pint away from a good time…and shots are 2 for 1 upstairs on the weekend (which doesn’t sound that bad either).
People still flock to The Blarney Stone to get rip roaring drunk, and come St Patrick’s Day, you can bet there’ll be a high casualty rate. All the better. You’re with friends here, whether you know them or not.