Maureen Mullany's Pub

A great local place full of nice people, a staff who bust their asses and pretty damn good kitchen for its size.  

This isn't some bullshit chain Irish joint trying to fool anyone. I think the girl who works the bar is actually Maureen Mullany.  She's probably Irish.    Who cares, it's a dive bar up in FarmVille NY.  She makes a very nice drink and her cheesesteaks are pretty damn good.  Couple of tvs to watch the games, some tables to sit around and talk to friends, both old and new.  

Nice place. Stop in and see for yourself.

I have to honestly say I was shocked to see how many people were here on a Saturday night. When we pulled up to the bar, I thought for sure we were going to be the only ones (except for the token two or three locals), but it was packed! Guess it was filled with all those GHS grads that Lauren stated below.

The bar itself is a typical dive bar...tables, drinks, jukebox....enough said. The only down thing was that they do not accept credit cards. Only cash. Now, I can understand the highlights of having a cash business, however I think people would run a much bigger bill if they were able to use their credit card. Just a thought.

Oh, Mullaney's.  If you're reading this review, you've no doubt been there already, as it has carved its place as one of the finest institutions in Goshen.  If I'm being completely candid, this is one of the smallest, dingiest, dive bars I've ever had the pleasure of visiting in my life, but if you've ever had the chance to live in Goshen, this place is close to your heart.  A haven for GHS grads, this place enjoys its busiest night of the year the night before Thanksgiving, when hundreds of alumni are home from college for the week and will flock here to have deliciously awkward, less-than-sober encounters with old classmates whom they've never talked to.  Cheap drinks, a convenient location, and a longstanding historical significance make Maureen Mullaney's immortal in my book.

However, minus one star for the insanely rude, raving beotch of a bartender who insisted that my boyfriend's out-of-state license was fake (she literally slammed it down on the counter and told him to get out).  I refuse to patronize the establishment if she's working...I'll go another night and hang out with my man Pete, a bartender who ranks drastically lower on the Asshole Scale.