“It lets you cut the giant line and get in for free anytime,” Penn announced, holding up the card like a sacred relic. “I carry it in my wallet at all times.”
Kal Penn, best known for his role in Harold & Kumar and for once having a White House pass, now holds an artifact more powerful than any diplomatic credential: a Copper Face Jacks gold card.
As we all know Coppers is a Dionysian labyrinth where gadaí/nurse liasons reigns supreme. It is where GAA heads engage in tequila-fuelled courtship rituals, where lost Australians accidentally pledge lifelong allegiance to Dublin, and where the laws of time, space, and good taste collapse entirely. To hold a Coppers gold card is to possess the nightclub equivalent of the One Ring. It’s dangerous, alluring, and capable of making men lose their minds in pursuit of its power.
And yet, somehow, somehow, Kumar aka Kal bloody Penn has one.
How did this happen? How did a man who spent his youth in Montclair, New Jersey end up wielding this mythical status symbol? How did a guy who worked for Barack Obama, a man whose job required him to liaise with global leaders, get fast-tracked past a horde of sweating culchies and off-duty Gardaí in pursuit of late-night shifting?
According to Penn himself, it all went down one fateful night in Dublin. One minute he was just another punter enjoying a few pints, the next he was bestowed with one of Ireland’s highest honours. “It lets you cut the giant line and get in for free anytime,” he announced proudly on The Kelly Clarkson Show, clutching his golden treasure like a goblin hoarding a cursed amulet. He carries it in his wallet at all times, fully aware that in the right (or wrong) circles, this card is worth more than actual currency.
This revelation has sent the Irish internet into a tailspin. How? Why? What has he done to deserve this? The Coppers gold card is more elusive than a crisp tenner on a night out. No, you cannot buy one. No, your cousin’s mate who ‘knows a lad’ cannot get you one. There are whispered legends of what it takes: making the club’s marketing team laugh until they cry, undertaking elaborate challenges, performing feats of Irishness so profound that they shake the very foundation of the club itself. And yet, here stands Kal Penn, American citizen, casually brandishing his card as if he has always belonged.
At the Jaipur Literature Festival, an event dedicated to, you know, literature; Penn decided to show his prized possession to the Irish Ambassador to India, Kevin Kelly. What followed was a scene of absolute reverence. These were serious diplomats, men who negotiate trade deals and represent their nation on the global stage. And yet, they were struck dumb, as if beholding the Holy Grail itself.
“Nothing is more impressive than a Coppers gold card,” Penn remarked. And honestly? He’s not wrong.
That a man who worked with Obama is now flexing about ability to skip the Coppers queue is proof that we live in the most deranged timeline imaginable. The country that gave the world Beckett and Yeats has also produced a nightclub so culturally significant that its loyalty card carries more weight than an actual diplomatic passport.
And yet, against all logic, Kal Penn holds this sacred relic. If this is not proof that the Irish diaspora is alive, well and absolutely off its head I don’t know what is.
