Gardens make my summer. All you have to do is add some splishy splashy and you have an instant antidote to the daily miseries of city dwelling. So with fall around the corner, an old college friend and I decided to booze it up outdoors one last time. The site of our indiscretion was Cherry Tree, a recently opened Irish pub with a much raved-about backyard. Outside the large space was packed with young twentysomethings. There amid candles and chitchat we sipped fresh mojitos (a $4 special) on one of the several long wooden benches—a size perfect for large groups—while starring up in awe at the incredibly tall tree that had given this watering hole its moniker. Unfortunately at 11 p.m. this haven closes, and the yard tranquility doesn’t transfer into the inside. There with a Jägermeister machine, a chalkboard listing the Top 10 drunks of the week, a giant Irish flag, and a bartender administering beer bong hits ($5) to fellow imbibers and a dancing Guinness mascot, the atmosphere felt more Emerald Isle frat party than local Park Slope saloon. Nonetheless the revelry was contagious. Soon my friend and I found even our post-collegiate selves pondering whether we should give the beer bong a try. Thankfully a Whitney Houston song (it was ’80s music night after all) sparked an impromptu karaoke session, sparing us from funneling—an action I somewhat regretted the next day, since it would have provided needed amnesia to the fact that summer is almost over.