Jimmy Fallon hit a “Fever Pitch” of excitement at this Manhattan watering hole — so much so that he ended his bachelor party by planting a kiss on the owner.
The Mean Fiddler is celebrating its 20th anniversary in the Theater District by raising a glass to its colorful history and the parade of celebrities who have walked — or crawled — through its doors, including the “Tonight Show” host.
Fallon celebrated his 2007 bachelor party by watching a UFC fight with his entourage of about 25 guys –including his brother-in-law, his father-in-law and his brothers — whom the owners set up in the downstairs bar, where a regular happened to be celebrating her 30th birthday.
“At the end of the night, he comes up and gives me a kiss on the lips and I’m like, ‘Oh my God, this is the first time a guy ever kissed me,’” co-owner Patrick McNamee recalled.
“He says, ‘Man, I love you, this place rocks.’”
“I love that story because then he just hung out with them, got drunk and ended up playing beer pong . . . and singing karaoke,” added Patrick’s brother, Mike.
The brothers, natives of Dublin, Ireland, opened the pub — the former “raunchy gay bar” Stella’s — on West 47th Street and 8th Avenue in 2006 — and have served up spirits to countless famous faces.
“Bono came in with Johnny Depp, hammered,” Patrick, 60, said.
“Pierce Brosnan used to sit here every day writing. I remember asking him, ‘How come you actors sit at the bar with the stool turned this way, at a 45-degree angle?’ He said it was so people wouldn’t recognize them. Then I looked at him and said, ‘Did you learn that in acting school?’”
The Irish brothers, who have since opened 11 more Manhattan hot spots, welcomed more celebrities at The Fiddler before they renovated it in 2019.
“I know this sounds mad, but the more divey we were, the more celebrities we got,” Mike, 51, said.
“We still get them, but not like before.”
Many stars saunter in before or after Broadway shows or games at Madison Square Garden.
Billionaire Mark Cuban, the minority owner of the Dallas Mavericks, would show up whenever his team played the Knicks at MSG — and “turn the bar into a full dance club.”
“He’s the nicest guy ever,” Patrick gushed.
“When the Mavericks were in town, he would come in every night, buy drinks for everybody, give $400 to the DJ, and he would put on his playlist, and the place would be pumping.”
“He would play beer pong and pool,” added Mike. “He would come in with friends, usually females, but it was always late at night.”
There was one notable name who didn’t know how to have a good time — “Game of Thrones” star Peter Dinklage.
“He is not a happy guy,” Patrick said.
“He came with this gorgeous six-foot girl. One of the guys said, ‘Any chance I can have a photograph? It’s just for my kids.’”
After Dinklage flat out denied the fan, Patrick called him out on his inhospitable behavior.
“I turned around and I said to him, ‘You’re big right now, but remember in 10 years from now, you’ll be wishing you did that photograph.’”
Most of the selfies taken with celebrities at The Fiddler were captured by its former security manager, Alex Serrano, because the owners prefer not to bother them.
Patrick, who worked at the now-shuttered Mickey Mantles Restaurant on Central Park South, said he learned not to pester stars when they come in to unwind after watching the baseball legend get bombarded for photos and autographs.
“Mantle would be in the middle of his chicken fried steak and people would come over once, twice, I’d say three times,” he recalled.
To celebrate its 20th anniversary, the bar is going back to its original, 2006 prices on the week of Sept. 21, so cocktails such as a cosmopolitan and an appletini will be marked down to $8 and shots like the red headed slut will cost $6.
After its staff recovers from that celebration, they will be gearing up for the bar’s favorite holiday — Halloween.
That night, the place is full of A-listers in costume, so customers can’t recognize them. But Patrick checks IDs at the door — so he knows their true identities.
“We have Oscar winners, I won’t name the Spider-Man … they come in, I pick up their ID, and I look at it. But I won’t say a word. The same guys come back every year, different disguises,” he said.
