'Irish lessons', rancid Guinness and dismal pay – what it's really like working in an airport pub

Don’t act like you’ve never set foot in one. I don’t believe you. Nobody does.

We’ve all been there. The airport delay. The irritation with Terminal life. The clinging desire to do anything, absolutely anything, to avoid another bout of leafing through that copy of The Atlantic in the magazine kiosk that you have no intention of buying.

You need a Proper Drink. And the airport Irish pub has seen you coming my weary friend. Once you’re in its grasp, there’s no way you’re getting out of there without being at least a tenner lighter.

Let’s call the typical pub ‘Seamus O’Shenanigans’ shall we? They’re all over the world, smelling slightly of chip fat and farts in airports from Bogota to Brisbane. There’s even a few in Ireland.

We know they take our money when we’re at our most vulnerable. But what else goes on at these, the strangest of all hoax hostelries?

I met a woman who, in exchange for her anonymity being retained, was recently able to give me the low down on life behind the reproduction wood counter at a ‘Seamus O’Shenanigan’s' type Irish bar in an American East Coast airport. Some of the following will surprise you. Some you will find grimly predictable. All of it is true:

Staff are supposed to know about Ireland, but don’t

“The pub I worked at for a year is part of a chain that runs a few Irish pubs in US airports. When I started the job, my manager decided to give our team an informal fifteen minute talk before our shift started one day about Irish history. Unfortunately, the 'lessons' seemed to be taken from a copy of the ‘National Enquirer Book of Irish History' with a few too many pages ripped out. Hence he gave us references about 'orange-people marches' and 'Terry Adams' from the IRA. The sad thing was, absolutely nobody called him out on his ignorance.”

Don’t worry about drinking too much

“We were always told that there is no such thing as being too drunk in one of our pubs. It doesn't matter how hammered you are, our instructions were to keep serving and then, quietly, call airport security to deal with the problem.”

The Guinness gets worse by the day

“It’s impossible to keep the Guinness tasting anywhere near as good as you’d find in a proper pub as, in airports, surprisingly few people actually order it. Chiefly because I suppose it's not the ideal pre-long haul flight tipple. The reason the Guinness in fake Irish airport pubs often tastes so bad is simply because the barrel hasn't been drunk quickly enough and we staff aren't allowed to tip it away. So it just sits there in the barrel tasting worse and worse with each passing day.”

Even in an airport Irish bar you get regulars

“The rest of the staff and I would give them nicknames too. 'Pittsburgh Pervy Pete' was a regular in our pub. And there was one customer, an actual Irishman, who would often try to inject the pub with some authenticity by singing 'It's a long long way to Tipperary' after a few Bushmills. I think he died.”

All the 'Irish' décor comes from Malaysia

“Or China. Either way, none of it has ever been anywhere near Ireland. I’m constantly amazed at how many people would come into the pub and ask if we got the ‘old’ beer advert prints from a thrift store. I felt like saying ‘yes sir, James Joyce and Brendan Behan go trawling round the car boot sales for us as often as they can.’”

Tipping will go down very well

“The hours are long, the pay is dismal and only about a quarter of the customers are even remotely what I could consider to be polite. If you feel like tipping in an airport Irish boozer, please don’t put a few extra percent on your card. Just slip us a crumpled note or a few coins. That way you know we’re taking that money home. Otherwise, it either gets divvied up between us all (including the staff who least deserve it) or we simply don’t see it at all.”

Customers leave behind more stuff here than anywhere else in the airport

“Because they’re usually more drunk here than they would be at a Burger King or a perfume counter of course. Staff are supposed to hand it all in but I've gone home with perfume, cigarettes and a lot of duty free bags full of Scotch. I wasn't so interested in the dentures, the (full) funeral urn or the three foot high cuddly leprechaun though.”