Food for thought, Guinness for strength, Part Deux

So. St. Patrick's Day. I must say that yesterday was NOT another defeat. It was really quite good, if ya really want to know about it (at least the parts I remember). Let's start with some of the lowlights: Having some ugly girl steal my Kiss Me I'm Irish button; Drinking a shot of Jagermeister -- I'm still not sure who bought that round, but it was bought. So you gotta drink it, right? Mistake; Stepping in the omnipresent slush puddles, drenching my feet and ruining my shoes; Bloodying my right hand (it's pretty bloody, don't ya know) and not knowing how I hurt the paw; Drinking a Bud Light at Jimmy's Corner (I like the bar, I hate that pish).

But there were mostly highlights. Mostly. And they are... Having a very cute girl give me a kiss (because I was wearing my Kiss Me I'm Irish button); walking the entire parade route -- 40 or so blocks -- and not dying; Being given an awesome green foam stovepipe hat, which I wore all day (sadly, the lid was destroyed en route back to Brooklyn. It's probably for the best.); Having a cute girl give me some green beads to wear; Getting a free pint of Guinness at the Kinsale because the bartender "knew" me (yes, I had tipped generously on previous occasions); Sassing what may or mayn't have been the French Embassy (it had a big-ass French flag flying); Somehow having the good sense to stop and buy the pair of pants that I needed (sucked carrying the bag, though; luckily, no one used it as a vomit bag); Hearing a pipe & drum band play "Celebration." That was wicked crazy; Having a firefighter give me a high-five. Normally I'm not a big high-fiver, but this was cool; Having a pint with a group of actual Irish pipers, although they sassed my green foam hat; Seeing a black dude with a shamrock painted on his cheek.

Anyway. St. Patrick's Day is my favorite day to be in NYC. It's just great. Everybody is out for a good time, and you can get away with stuff that would ordinarily get you pantsed (like wearing a big-ass green foam stovepipe hat). And, at least for one day, you can pretend that this isn't Puerto Rico North. Here's the best news, though: Brooklyn's parade starts at 1pm! Yep, we get the two-fer here. That sound you hear is my liver wheezing. The other sound is probably some topless fat guy screaming "WHOOOOO! AH'M IRISHHHHH!," which is really one of the lowlights of the holiday. Still.

Okay, so this was a pretty lame report. I blame the hangover. And society. But stay tuned for my Brooklyn report; I'll try to do better...