O’Keeffe’s Beach Tavern

I am not making this up.
This pub is most suitable for a surrealist who wants to get a break from reality.
Let’s be frank; This isn’t a beach house at all. Step inside and you’re greeted with the dark, familiar pub atmosphere you were secretly hoping for.
It’s late on a Monday; Exactly what you would expect to be the quietest time of the week. A man is sitting on a stool, just below eye level with a mounted deer head on the wall. He’s petting the head, while a dozen of his comrades encourage him. They begin chanting «Doe, a deer…» The petting gets more vigorous while the chanting degrades into a low mumble as the participants realize that they don’t know any more of the words. The man petting the deer head increases the intensity of petting.
Suddenly, an antler breaks off the head and flies across the bar, knocking two glasses off a table and smashing them in the process.
One of the chanters literally falls off his stool with laughter.
You’ve barely stepped inside the doorway. The barman looks at you; His facial expression is of pure helplessness. He doesn’t even say anything to the people who are actively destroying the pub. He’s just hoping that you are a little more sober.
Only twenty seconds in the pub and you’ve gotten enough craic to last for the week.
Despite initial appearances, the locals are very friendly. A couple of personal introductions and you’re set. There is a decent sense of camaraderie but it has just gotten out of hand in the last ten minutes or so.
In the back there is a door labelled «Staff only.» It seems that customers are allowed in, though I didn’t dare. It’s probably super-​exciting, given the amount of people going in and out.
If you stay long enough, you may get locked in. Not that you would object.