By Alexandra Engler

By 9:55 p.m. I rush out of my apartment. I slam the door behind me after a mad dash to get ready. I head down 16th Street toward Wells Street.

I’m headed toward Murphy’s Irish Pub.

But I’m not going to get an early start on my night, or to meet a friend for a game of pool. I’m not even going for the famous popcorn.

I’m going because I work there. Full-time student, part-time bartender.

10:01 p.m. I walk into Murphy’s. Hardly anyone is there. It’s just me, the bartender on duty, the bar back, a bouncer and a few guys playing pool.

Albeit, it is a little strange to be in Murphy’s so early. Seeing Murphy’s when it’s not jam-packed with drunken students would be like seeing Lake Michigan with no water, a Golden Eagle Basketball game with no gold, a Marquette winter day with no leggings and Uggs. It just isn’t right. 

12:35 a.m. Up until this point a few people had already begun trickling into Murphy’s. They’re seated all around the bar. A few on barstools, a few in a booth and a few playing pool.

Right on cue, a large group of stumbling seniors roll through the door. They park themselves  in front of the bartender. They order two pitchers of Miller Lite and seven shots of Rumple Minze.

“Keep the tab open,” says the drunkest senior. Oh boy, this is going to be a big tab for the night.

They do an odd little half-dance, half-walk over to a table by the dance floor. The girls start dancing as the DJ does his work. They are the only people on the floor right now. That will change.

12:45 a.m. People are everywhere. Bartenders are in a mad dash, running up and down the bar grabbing a bottles of Jaeger, Socolime, Miller Lite and whatever other alcoholic concoction the customers demand.

photo credit: Dylan Huebner

1:01 a.m. People are all demanding something: Vodka Cranberry, Jack and Coke, Miller Lite, Miller Lite, Miller Lite. Oh, and of course, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots and more shots. I begin to feel like I am in an LMFAO and Lil’ John song.

I pour 10, count ‘em, 10 shots of Jameson for a group of friends. I turn around to ring them up.

“Alex, wait Alex! Ya’ want one? Make it 11!” A friend screams across the bar. Well, don’t mind if I do.

1:25 a.m. Things start to get a little sloppier. The top of the bar gets a little stickier from all the spilled drinks. Signatures on bar tabs become a little less readable.

Around this time, people order less mixed drinks and more and more shots. It’s not like they need more shots.

1:40 a.m. Now it’s almost exclusively shots (and the random glass of water).

This is the point in the night when all I want to do is dance. The DJ is playing a mix of Kanye, Jay-Z, Neyo, Chris Brown and the list goes on. So while the dance floor is jam-packed with students dancing their night away, you can see me and my super fly moves behind the bar. Usually I resort to the robot.

2:03 a.m. The lights come on. Once the lights come on, we only serve shots. No more mixers and no more beer. Pretty soon after, our manager and the bouncers get on the microphone and start demanding people leave Murphy’s.

For the stragglers remaining, you are either very lucky or are about to be sprayed with water. It depends on the bouncers’ moods (hint: don’t test them).

This is usually the most entertaining part of the night. Seeing Murphy’s post-Saturday with the lights on is even weirder than seeing it empty. Usually clothes look a little disheveled and not many people can walk straight. The bar looks like a tornado went through it. There are puddles of spilled mixers and beer everywhere. Half-drunken beer litters the top of the bar and tables. Popcorn covers every inch of the floor.

After a long night, Murphy’s is no longer a bar – it’s a war zone.

2:30 a.m. Every employee is getting down to work. The bar back and bouncers start cleaning up the bar and whipping down the bottles. The bartenders start adjusting the credit card tabs, organizing receipts, counting the draws and splitting tips.

Counting the drawers is the biggest pain of the night. All the bartenders sit down with their cash drawers. To entertain ourselves, we start exchanging stories from the night. It is a pleasant mix of “He did what?” and “Did you see this?” All the while we continue tediously counting money. First we all make sure our cash drawers are on spot. Then we get to what we have been waiting for — tips.

Tips are what bartenders live for. Seeing your tip bucket filled with cash is like Christmas morning … every Saturday.

On easy days we get out at around 3:15 a.m., but Saturdays are typically not easy days.

3:45 a.m. Finally, it’s time to leave. The herd of bartenders, bouncers and bar back walk outside of the bar into the chilly Milwaukee air.

Time to sleep.

In September 2005, Murphy's Irish Pub was named the Playboy College Bar of the Month.

Hoops and beer have been two of the biggest pastimes for Marquette University students since legendary basketball coach Al McGuire first patrolled the sidelines in the '70s. Both passions come together at Murphy's Irish Pub, conveniently located just one block from Marquette's urban campus in Milwaukee and a little less than two miles from the Miller brewery.

The Scene: Murphy's unspectacular but spacious interior can accommodate plenty of thirsty students who go there to catch a game on one of the five televisions, play pool on the red velvet tables, down a few pitchers or do all three. “It's a friendly bar with a nice atmosphere,” says Nick, a senior accounting major.

Above the long bar hang roughly 200 numbered mugs which students can lease for $15 a semester, making them members of the Mug Club. With $10 bottomless mug nights on Tuesdays, membership has its advantages. “It's good to have a bar with your own mug in it,” explains Griff, a senior finance major. “Mine is number three.”

Girls at the Bar: “The girls in here put the 'sin' in Wisconsin,” says Adam, a recent education graduate. The talent level at Murphy's is impressive, and most Marquette girls can drink any West Coast Barbie doll under the table. “You see some pretty faces,” says Joe, a senior business administration major. “Most college students would be happy here.”

When to Go: On Wednesday nights Murphy's packs them in with 32-ounce glasses of Miller for just $3.50. After Marquette home basketball games, pitchers are just $1 with a ticket stub, giving students clad in gold-colored Marquette gear a chance to celebrate a Big East victory for the Golden Eagles or drown a defeat. St. Patrick's Day, when revelers line up around the corner to start their day drinking at 6 a.m., is also a big annual event.

Dress Code: Wear whatever you want. The majority of the student body is from the laid-back Midwest, so jeans, T-shirts and baseball caps are acceptable. Leave your University of Wisconsin or Notre Dame apparel at home because both teams are hated hoops rivals.

At the Bar: Beer. Murphy's sells more Miller than most of the bars in Beer City. But if the hometown brew is too pricey for the college wallet, pitchers of Old Style are available for just $4. “Milwaukee is a beer town,” explains Adam. “People here drink beer, most of which was brewed just a mile-and-a-half down the street.”

More Info:

http://www.playboy.com/on-campus/collegebars/murphys/index.html