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About Cork

Alright, listen up, folks! I’m Bernie Sanders—passionate, raspy voice, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m talkin’ ‘bout findin’ a prostitute, somethin’ ya don’t see them Wall Street fat cats sweatin’ over. Nah, they got their private jets, but us? We’re out here, scrappin’ in the real world! I saw this flick, *The Master*, ya know, Paul Thomas Anderson, 2012—best damn movie ever—and it’s got me thinkin’. Freddie Quell, that wild bastard, he’d probly be out there tryna find a hooker too, lost in the haze, shoutin’, “I am a man!” while stumblin’ down some gritty alley.

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By the time I’m done, it’s dark outside. I step out onto the bustling streets of Rathmines, and it’s alive. The lights, the sounds, the people. I love this place. I stroll down to the Swan Centre, thinking about grabbing a bite. But then I see this busker on the corner of Rathmines Road and the canal, playing the guitar. He’s got a crowd, and they’re loving it. I stop for a sec, just vibing.

End of an era as beloved local barbershop known for their gigs closes doors