New Rule

At the first sign of picking up a tab at a bar that clearly does not belong to me - please just take my money/cards/wallet away from me. Give me a stern look. And just say "New rule in effect."

St. Patrick's Day was quite the experience. With my sister in town for the best holiday in March, I was adamant about starting early. So with my encouragement we hit our first bar at 12. A few games of darts and some green beer, we moved on down the beach to the Irish bar of choice, O'Brien's. It was great. $10 cover. No specials. No green beer. After meeting a slew on interesting people, using Kelly as old man bait and receiving free Jameson shots from the bartender who knew me as "a Sunday regular", we moved on to the next bar.

At this point things start to get a little more hazy. We left O'Brien's to meet up with V and C at another watering hole, which was not an Irish Bar and had specials. Lots and lots of specials. Without a cover. Hurray! Now here is where my memory starts to play hopscotch. When the bill came for the 6 people I was with. I refused to let anyone else pay. I was rewarded for my efforts with a delicious car bomb. But at this point, from now on, the new rule would go into effect. But let's all see what happens next :)

Andy picked up Kay, Kelly, and myself to head to the Parlor. I don't remember the car ride up to my apartment. There is a brief flash of taking a Patron shot, poured for me by Andy, and then we are walking up the street. So this is when I take the night to ludicrous speed. It may be obvious that I am a generous drunk. How generous you may ask?

(Being filled in on this the next morning)

As we passed some of SM's generic homeless people, they wished us a Happy St Patrick's Day. We returned in kind. They asked if we had any food. I offered to take them out to dinner. No. Seriously. To dinner. With Andy and Co staring at me in disbelief, I tried to get out two new homeless companions into the Parlor. No such luck. So I took them up the street for some India food. Sit down meal. Conversation. The works. They both had the lamb. They were really friendly guys. I do not recall what we talked about. And then after getting a $53 bill I asked them if they wanted/needed anything else. Off we went to CVS for an 18-pack of Bud and some cigarettes. Another $23. So for those unable to do quick math, I spent $76 in less than an hour on two homeless gentlemen.

I now met back up with Andy and Co at the Parlor. They were in awe. I was in awe. And then I had a green beer. We went from there to a diner to meet Ben and Shanee. I regaled everyone of my misadventures through the day. And upon leaving - this unfortunate diner has windows on all walls facing the street - danced for everyone still sitting in at their booths. Like danced. Alone. To the music in my head. Like Napoleon Dynamite. Don't worry. It's on video somewhere.

So that was St. Patrick's Day.

What we learned:

1) I am a generous drunk.

2) Starting a conversation with homeless guys, causes less anxiety than talking to women.

3) Non-Irish bars are a much better option than Irish bars on St. Patrick's Day

4) Sometimes you just have to dance.