OVER THE PAST few months, countless new bars have opened in Dublin, each vying for our custom with their hip cocktails and cosmopolitan vibes.

Recently, however, it has become increasingly clear that Dublin’s cocktail bars have completely lost their chill and need to find it ASAP.

1. For one thing, when did €12 become a standard price for a cocktail?

Giphy Giphy

Out of nowhere, €12 is suddenly an acceptable price to pay for a cocktail. In fact, it’s practically the minimum you can expect to pay for a cocktail in a number of bars in the city.

I don’t care how much care and thought and time has gone into the preparation of your artisan cocktail — twelve quid is too much for what more often than not resembles a glass of ice topped with a drop of alcohol.

2. And can we talk about the names of the cocktails in question?

Here are the names of some actual cocktails you can get in Dublin at present.

• The Bard’s Dessert
• Aungier Street Rambler
• The Sam Beckett
• The Truth Behind Augustus
• Bootlegging In The Moon Shine

Lads, please. Irish people don’t feel feel comfortable saying things like, “Eh, can I have The Truth Behind Augustus, please?”

3. Did we mention how these cocktails contain unnecessary embellishments and stupid ingredients?

Is this decorative? Do I eat it? Help!

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4. *removes full sprig of mint from mouth*

Mmm, delicious.

5. Also, when did glasses become passé?

A miniature shopping bag is not a substitute for a glass, 37 Dawson Street.

6. I mean, really, when did it become acceptable to serve a cocktail served in a takeaway carton?

Explain yourselves, Opium Rooms.

(ahem… thanks for changing your caption Dan. It’s nice to be noticed)

7. And just what is this contraption?

I JUST WANT A PINK DRINK, NOT A CONTRAPTION TAKING FROM DR. FRANKENSTEIN’S LABORATORY.

8. *throws hands up in the air*

I don’t even know what the hell I’m supposed to do with this.

9. A word of advice to Brown Thomas: please remove the actual garden growing inside that cocktail

10. Back to the auld lad pubs, we say

Where there’s not a burnt orange peel or glass of crushed ice in sight.

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