It’s the soft opening of McFadden’s Restaurant and Saloon inside the Rio, and the entrance is mobbed with people—mostly dudes. What could draw so many guys away from the bar on the other side of the room? What personal hero could reduce a group of grown men to fawning teenyboppers? I peer over everyone’s heads to see the celebrity in the eye of the tornado. And it’s ... Ron Jeremy?
Yes, apparently “the Hedgehog” is an old friend of the establishment, which has locations in New York City, Chicago, Philadelphia, Boston and D.C., to name a few. This is the first McFadden’s to make it out West. And since a little porn convention has just made its yearly trip into town, it makes sense for the diminutive porn star to be here. Though I’m still surprised by how many male fans he has. Of course, it’s possible that they’re just there to see him interact with his handful of female fans, who ask him to pose for pictures with them while they’re kissed, fondled and otherwise groped. They treat Ron Jeremy like a McFadden’s Blarney Stone.
Joe Picciuca, the bar’s general manager, shows my friend Martin and me the lay of the land. McFadden’s has enveloped both the former Irish pub the Tilted Kilt and its neighboring establishment, the Dragon Bar, in order to form one massive 7,000-plus-square-foot Irish super-tavern. The once-short mahogany bar has been extended to a whole 100 feet, reaching the back of the room. And once the tile floors are replaced with hardwood around the second room’s island bar, the area will be available for private parties. Joe talks about the upcoming renovations with wide-eyed, giddy enthusiasm. And it’s no surprise. Having been in Vegas for only a couple months, Joe spends his life split between this place and his Rio suite.
“I’ve barely even seen any of Vegas outside this hotel,” he says.
I glance across the room, to where Ron Jeremy has scrambled to the top of the main bar. His short and stocky stature allows him to traverse the wooden counter without having to duck the hanging light fixtures as he pours some unidentified pink liquor into the mouths of excited patrons. He looks like some sort of drunken, hairy leprechaun.
“It’s all pretty much like this,” I say.
We’re approached by a member of Jeremy’s camp, who urges us to join in the madness. He stands very close and seems to be doing a lousy Dave Chappelle impersonation that I hope is the result of drunkenness, but suspect is simply the way he is.
“Do I have to get these ladies to drag you over there?” he asks, indicating two buxom members of Jeremy’s entourage, seated in the center of the room.
“Yes,” Martin answers.
It turns out Mr. Chappelle is easily distracted, and before he returns with our escorts, we make our way to the bar by ourselves. The center of the room is filled with an assortment of circular dining tables. The menu has yet to be finalized, but based on the selection at the nation’s other McFadden’s, is likely to include the Almost Famous Boneless Buffalo Wings and such Irish culinary staples as shepherd’s pie and Irish stew, all of which can be enjoyed while watching any of the bar’s 20 high-definition plasma TVs.
The center of the room also boasts a dance floor and an area for bands and special events, which throughout the rest of the month will include the grand-opening party (January 24), a calendar-girl competition (January 25), and the calendar-girl finals, hosted by Entourage’s Kevin Dillon (January 26).
We park by the main bar, where Mr. Jeremy has been replaced by several lovely bartenders, competing in a beer-chugging competition. The victor’s prize? More beer. That’s right—excessive alcohol consumption rewarded with more alcohol. I think the McFadden’s philosophy is going to fit in just fine in Las Vegas. But then it’s to be expected that the “Wildest Irish Pub on Earth” would inevitably make its way to the wildest city on Earth. With or without porn-star-leprechauns.
McFadden’s Restaurant and Saloon
Rio All-Suite Hotel & Casino
777-2463