Paddy O'Hirish's Pub is (and always was) the most popular bar in the town of Schenectady, New York.
It wasn't an especially great bar. The drinks were not especially cheap, and the bartenders did not have exceptionally nice breasts. In fact, there was nothing at all remarkable about this bar, other than the fact that nearly every alcohol drinker in town regularly found themselves inside the walls of Paddy O'Hirish's Pub.
The popularity of this particular watering hole seemed to stem almost entirely from the lack of imagination of it's clientele. They had always gone to Paddy O'Hirish's Pub, so why rock the boat.
The popularity also stemmed from a lack of imagination of the local entrepreneurs, who never even attempted to open a competitor bar to Paddy O'Hirish's Pub. They seemed to believe that Paddy O'Hirsh's Pub had cornered the pub market cold, so what was the use?
Further adding to the mystery of Paddy O'Hirish's Pub was the fact that no one peed inside the bar--everyone peed outside in the alley. Paddy O'Hirish's Pub had two restrooms, as mandated by local ordinance and building codes. However, one of the restrooms was inevitably out of order, and the other was so disgusting that only the bravest souls in town would dare even enter. It had, in fact, become something of a local competition as to who could spend the most time in Paddy O'Hirish's Pub's working restroom. The current record holder was Phil, with 11 minutes and some odd seconds (Clive had lost track of the time because he was drunk).
While the idea of both men and women drunkenly relieving themselves in the alley is charming indeed, this practice had led to some rather interesting consequences. So much urine had collected in the ground beneath Paddy O'Hirish's Pub that the foundation of the building had become unstable. The alley was now technically classifiable as both a Class 4 Swamp and a Class 9 Biohazard. The fact that Paddy O'Hirish's Pub was even allowed to continue operating as a business was a testament to the tireless efforts of local officials to keep the bar open to the public, and especially, open to themselves.
Should Paddy O'Hirish's Pub ever close, they told themselves when they looked in the mirror at night, the sense of safety and security held by the public would be irrevocably lost, and it was their responsibility as elected and appointed officials to maintain said sense, regardless of how the National Safety Board might see it. This was their town, and they had the right to run it as they needed to as long as no one was getting hurt. And, with the exception of a few sprained ankles while tripping in pee puddles, no one was at the moment getting hurt.
And thus Paddy O'Hirish's Pub stood the test of time. A beacon to the drunks of Schenectady, New York, and also drunks everywhere. That there is a safe place for you to drink and yell and whatever else you might do. This was your place, believed the proprietor, and here you shall be until you die.