The Luck of the Leprechauns

I had a pretty low key St. Patrick's day weekend.

I started out the St. Patty's weekend Saturday at the Emerald Loop at 9:30 a.m. sharp...and didn't stop until 2 a.m. I dare say I outlasted all of my frat-daddy friends and I didn't even indulge in alka seltzer in the morning. If you need tips on how to balance whiskey, Guinness and Irish car bombs throughout a 17 hour period, just ask me.

Halfway through the day I went from the typical jeans and t-shirt look into the flag outfit. The flag was a little half assed this year but alas, it's posted below so you can catch my drift.



Please note, I closed my eyes just for this shot. It had nothing to do with the horrible Irish car bomb experience a minute before.

I wish I could have captured my cab drivers face as I climbed into the front seat. I guess he's not used to flags as clothing.

Fast forward five hours and you could find me playing flippy cup in the basement of a bar on Southport, where I may or may not have gotten into a fight with a married man that was trying to hit on my friend..."SIR this is a catholic holiday! You need to check out commandment #6 and get back to me!"

Two hours after that I found the only Irish(ish) lad in the Schoolyard - he was sporting a Irish rugby jersey. After my trip to Ireland I really came to love rugby players. So I figured this guy is wearing a Irish rugby jersey, I've had 20 beers, close enough. After working my charm for 4.67 minutes Rugby asked if he could buy me a shot.

"Sure!" I say.
"Great, how about Jäger?" Rugby asks.
"Oh god no, I can't even have a sniff of Jäger without losing it," I
explain, "but how about Whiskey?"

Rugby looks at me like I have 3 heads. I think that's when I began to lose him, or maybe win him. I can't be sure. Shortly after I got bored and tried to scoot the conversation. Rugby gave me his card, I tossed it in my bag and didn't give it a second look until I found it today.

Turns out he works in marketing for a candy company. Good thing I didn't know that Saturday night otherwise I'm sure I would have found it appropriate to break into song belting out "The Candy Man."

The rest of the night was fairly normal. Said good bye at 2 a.m. to my favorite bar tenders including Bald Guy who REALLY hates life, high-fived Dan and Brent who can always be found at the yard and left to harass the 7-11 man, thanking him for inventing frozen pizza.

Pretty soon 8 a.m. rolled around and I was off to the Southside parade with the family. Low key, right? NOPE not when your family consists of 25 aunts, uncles and cousins who all have their own flasks of whiskey for sharing and endless supplies of beer and corned beef.

I may have died a little this past weekend, but I dare say it's more exciting then Christmas. I argue you'd be hard pressed to find a better St. Patty's celebration then Chicago's. Who else has good stories?