St. Patrick's Day:
A Nod to Male Debauchery
While my skin is Caucasian, my wallet Jewish, and my privates African-American, my liver is clearly Irish. Now maybe that means I’m allowed to celebrate the cornucopia of holidays that comes with being such a "mixed bag" but none of them stand out quite like St. Patrick’s Day. This is especially true if you live in New England where we drink competitively. In fact, because of our insatiable thirst for intoxication, we hold our celebration the weekend before March 17th.
Before I begin this little running diary of events that took place March 11th, there are a few pointers I need to make. First, the weather in Rhode Island sucks—especially around March. The last two years brought snow and rain on parade day (which just made us drink more to forget about living in America’s anus). However, this latest parade was a blessing from some higher power. It was 60 degrees out and sunny with no wind, rain, or snow in the forecast. In retrospect, this parade brought out twice as many people as the 4th of July (and considering we have the longest running 4th of July parade in America, that’s saying something). Secondly, a lot of planning goes into this day (whose driving, where to go first, what hotel to stay at, etc.). Unfortunately my friends and I caught a whiff of the Downs and didn’t accomplish anything. Therefore we left our journey in the hands of fate/alcohol.
8:00am— I wake up like a kid on Christmas Day. I assure my liver of the presents it will be receiving shortly.
8:15am—After a quick shower I’m already downstairs in my living room opening up a case of Sam Adams. I realize I’m the only one up.
8:20am—The second beer is introduced as my Mother walks downstairs in a robe and slippers. She gives me the once over since I’m wearing last year’s St. Patty’s Day shirt and a green bandana. She mutters, "You...are...pathetic." All signs point to yes.
8:30am—I get a call from TLB saying that Ike and Ginger2 have already arrived at his house and it’s high time I get my drinking boots on and head over to his place.
8:45am—I arrive to a minimal amount of fanfare. I am not pleased. However, there is plenty of beer and I get the sweats because I’m so excited. That and I’m not that skinny anymore and physical movement is overrated. Whatever.
8:46am—I switch to Heineken because it’s green. I take a minute to look around at the attire my friends will be sporting for the day. TLB is sporting a “Kiss The Blarney Stone” shirt with an arrow pointing towards his crotch along with an oversized green hat with a buckle on it. Ginger2, being a redhead, could’ve worn everyday attire and passed the test but let’s face it, the guy’s a champ. He’s rocking a green Red Sox shirt with a Patty golf hat on that has fake red hair shooting out (how fitting). Ike’s got on a simple IRELAND shirt on but he’s the d.d. for the day so I can’t argue. At least I think he’s the d.d. Either way I’m drinking.
9:10am—Several beers deep and we’re hypnotized by Beyonce and the girl from Black Eyed Peas shaking their asses in some music videos. A debate rages as to which can do it better and whether or not the girl from Black Eyed Peas is white. We agree to drink more in order to find the answer.
9:45am—I call NoJob and Hertz to find out where we’re going to meet up with them. NoJob says he’s on his way to Newport as we speak. Roughly translated that means he’ll be there in about 3 hours. We chug a farewell beer and head out the door for the day’s festivities.
10:20am—Arriving in Newport we park and immediately head for The Creamery to use their facilities. Everyone is silent and gawking as we make our way to the restroom, maybe because we’re obnoxiously loud and buzzing, then again, maybe not. On our way downtown I manage to swear in front of children and at young girls.
10:35am—We make it to Buskers on Thames and immediately order a round of Magners. Ah, this reminds me of when I went to Ireland (except there it’s called Bulmers). It is at this point I realize the bar is letting families and children in. Our group is puzzled by this but concludes that drinking around small children dressed as leprechauns is high comedy.
10:50am—Four rounds of Magners later TLB and Ike order some corned beef and cabbage. NoJob and Hertz show up earlier than expected. They’re both high but defend themselves by saying "Hey, at least it was green."
11:00am—The parade starts. None of us are watching.
1:00pm—We are toeing the line between intoxicated and drunk, but that’s just the starting point. Heading over to the Rhino Bar, Ginger2 and I spot two of the bouncers we’re friends with. We get in free. Everyone else has to pay. Score.
2:00pm—Things begin to get fuzzy for me as drinks are pushed in front of my face. NoJob knows the waitress so she helps us out and brings over nachos. Apparently she’s encouraging us to vomit in Technicolor. Frog and his lady arrive and grab some drinks.
3:00pm—There’s a fat guy with a giant shamrock shaved in his chest hair. I tell him it’s the coolest thing I’ve seen all day. He’s more than proud to show off his accomplishment to our table. Another round of nachos are magically sitting on the table. She’s really pushing her luck considering I could redecorate the booth with it in 5 minutes.
4:00pm—I’m slurring my speech and managed to find a plastic green derby hat a la the Lucky Charms leprechaun. I mosey on up to the bar and lay down some witty line to the bartender but she didn’t hear me. That or she’s ignoring me. I order a shot of Jaeger and two White Russians in honor of The Big Lebowski. In hindsight this was a very, very stupid idea.
**From this point on I have no recollection. NoJob had to recount these events to me.**
5:25pm—More drinks are ordered and consumed. TLB is in bad shape but decides he needs to stumble around the bar. He doesn’t make it 20 feet and the bouncers swoop in like vultures and kick him out. Meanwhile, Ginger2 leaves for the restroom.
5:45pm—Ginger2 gets physically thrown out and even has the scars to prove it. Come to find out he vomited in a circle all over the bathroom stall. It was on the back of the door, the bowl, the toilet paper dispenser, and the back wall. Thumbs up.
5:50pm—NoJob and Hertz leave to try and find TLB, Ike, Frog, and his girlfriend. Before leaving though NoJob places me in a booth and tells me not to move and that they’ll be right back. No one knows where Ginger2 went.
6:00pm—Apparently the bouncers don’t take kindly to patrons that pass out in their establishment. The next thing I know I’m half awake and leaning up against a lamppost outside. NoJob and Hertz return confused because I’m not in the bar and they can’t find the rest of our group. They’re relieved to find me outside and still breathing. At least that’s what I keep telling myself they’re thinking.
6:05pm—I get to talking about broadcasting with some random guy. He tells me he used to work for WEEI 103.7FM and could hook me up. I tell him I’ve already interviewed there (lie), turned down the job (another lie), and that I’m currently working at ESPN (yet a third lie). Have I mentioned I’m trying to get my foot in the door at any station that will take me? Moral of the story: I’m an idiot.
6:15pm—We meet up with Frog and his girlfriend but they want to go for ice cream. Maybe they’ll go home and watch Titanic while holding each other. Anyways, I tell Frog’s girlfriend she has nice boobs. Neither Frog nor her find this cute and/or funny so an awkward silence ensues.
6:17pm—NoJob realizes none of us paid for our nachos and drinks back at the bar. After a profanity laced tirade he runs back to take care of the matter (and because the waitress has called his brother several times bitching him out). All of a sudden it’s dark out and I’m confused.
6:30pm—Hertz, NoJob, and I are completely shitfaced and stuck without a ride. Because Hertz works at a rent-a-car place he knows some people in town that can get us a ride.
6:50pm—Back at NoJob’s parent’s house (since he flew in from D.C. just for the parade) I simply try and stay focused on one object at a time. His parents are laughing at me as I stumble onto the couch. It’s not even 7pm and I’m about to pass out. Then again after 10.5 hours of drinking I think it’s acceptable. Goodnight.
3:00am—I wake up with the spins. Here we go. Considering the house only has one viable bathroom and it’s right near his parent’s room, I think twice about my next move. I do however feel up to taking a giant crap. At least part of me feels better.
3:10am—You know when you can’t lay on your stomach because you’ll puke? That’s me except I can’t sleep on my back so I’m screwed. I decide to try and pull the trigger to clear my stomach. Since I’ve already done it in their sink a few years back I decide I’ll try the trashcan. Mission accomplished. I even take out the trash because I’m a nice guy.
3:30am—My mouth is watering in that special pre-vomit, 5-second head start way. Luckily I manage to move all the plates out of the sink before everything gives way. I spend the next 10 minutes trying to wash it all away before going into the bathroom to gargle toothpaste. Seriously, vomit breath is the worst.
4:00am—I manage to finally pass out for good. The End.
Epilogue: The next morning NoJob can’t stop laughing as he tells me what transpired the previous day. Through the grapevine I hear that TLB and Frog woke up at a random party in the next state over. Hertz made it home ok (thanks to his mysterious rent-a-car friend). No one has heard from Ike but he left his daughter’s carseat in my car (which happens to be at TLB’s house). We finally locate Ginger2 since his sister was woken up at 8:30am by the Newport Hospital Staff alerting her that he needed to be picked up. According to them, the Newport Police found him passed out, dragged him to their cruiser, and dropped him off at the front doors. This is why I love St. Patrick’s Day. God bless us all.
