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I remember Duffy Days well. You didn't dare wear a decent pair of shoes to Duffy's on Saint Patrick's day as a lot of green beer they served ended on the floor and it literally flowed around your feet. If you worked downtown, frequented Duffy's, or were just known to them in general you could knock on the door in the alley and using whatever form of persuasiveness you possessed (money, charm, etc.) ask to be let in instead of standing in line. As I recall, the Denver Fire Department held them to a high standard regarding the total occupancy of the restaurant. I worked at the old Denver Dry Goods Department store in the late seventies and still remember people literally falling down and being sick on the sidewalk from too much "celebrating." I also in those years saw a totally nude man walking down the middle of the street during sub-zero temperatures, but that's another story about another holiday.

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