I stayed inside all day because I hate St. Patrick's Day -- before you boo that I'm a party pooper, let me give you the logistics. The majority of parades come up Fifth Avenue and turn, end and disburse on 86th Street. I live on 87th Street which means that every drunk suburbanite, Irish cop, Irish fireman, Irish bagpiper, green plastic hat wearing jerk is drunk and puking in my neighborhood.
Lines of drunk wanna-bees line up outside of bars to get in. There's a pub I go to for lunch on Thursdays a block away and the bartender told me that they take out two booths and replace it with a stand that just sells shots so you can get drunk faster. He said that last year the place was packed and the bagpipers were standing on the bar.
Really, I can't think of less fun than that. So I stay inside to avoid the drunks, but also I feel like a misfit -- everyone is smiling and wearing KISS ME I'M IRISH buttons and little hats and all the other accessories and I feel like a big grump. I know tomorrow the Heineken bottles will be broken on the sidewalk, there will be drying puke against the side of buildings and general mayhem from the day before.
On the other hand, the Israelis (Israel Day), Italians (Columbus Day) and Germans (Steuben Day)all seem to come to the end of the parade and disburse and go on to other activities. The Puerto Ricans (Puerto Rico Day)are a noisy crowd, but their post-parade fun centers on food, music, and women and not solely on booze.
I know I get crabby about this... the news guys says, "Today everyone is Irish" and I talk back to the TV.. No, today I am not Irish!
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There are so many better ways to celebrate St. Patty's day than getting plastered--I cooked corned beef, cabbage and potatoes and invited my neighbors the Kelley's over for dinner. Sure, we had a beer or two, but it was Miller Lite and no one puked (that would've been tragic because the corned beef was delicious!).
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