You may not know this, but it is St. Patrick's Day.
Really. Right now, in my town, teeming hordes of folks are lining up outside the bars to drink. This is a town custom I have never quite fathomed, but then, my drinking days ended around the time Jimmy Carter's presidency did.
The revelers have been imbibing since the wee hours. How wee? Well, I spotted my first pile of vomit on my block at 10:15 a.m., Eastern Central Time.
Okay, vomiter. Maybe you had the flu. Maybe I am judging you harshly. I have the flu. It is the flu season. But today, it is also beer season in my town, and tomorrow, I will still have to live here, and you will be on to another bar. So, a few simple requests, based on past years:
Dear Reveler:
1. Do NOT lean into my dog's face and tell her how cute she is while staggering on high heels and almost falling. She will not interpret this kindly, and I may even get mad, too. The only upside to this encounter is that you will be too drunk to remember the potentially litigious details.
2. Do NOT attempt to throw the heavy metal Lotto sign in front of the deli to your pal in an attempt to invent a new Olympic sport. This will also freak my dog out, and it is not fair to the deli owner. Just because you bought cigarettes from him, doesn't mean you get to mess with his signage.
3. DO consider throwing up in the bathroom. It makes things easier for everybody, even you.
4. DO think about going home when you are standing looking at a sign that reads "SECOND STREET," and you are shouting into a cell phone "I'm at Third Street," unless, of course, you are trying to dodge a current or ex-girlfriend. In which case, you are totally screwed, because you are already too drunk to dodge her, and she will find you: it's the luck of the drunk. So go home, okay?
Otherwise, happy St. Patrick's Day!
You are a lucky woman. Nobody riled the dog this year--in fact, she was doing her very best to charm them out of their pizza as they waited in front of bars. Wag wag wag. Drunk people, give me your carbs.
This fake St. Pat's was was bad, but the actual St. Patrick's felt a more scary. People fighting in the PATH station, and on the street. Yuk.
Posted by: Martha Garvey | March 25, 2006 at 08:08 AM
Oh man, I hate Hoboken's St. Patrick's day with a passion. At least none of the revelers partied on my roof this year.
Posted by: craige | March 16, 2006 at 01:04 PM