Happy St. Patrick’s Weekend

When did Wrigleyville turn into Boy’s Town?  Barleycorn on St Patrick’s Day weekend had about an 80/20 sausage ratio. Whenever a guy didn’t find two hands on his drinks, he found one hand for the closest man he could grab.  For once, I actually payed a bathroom attendant for his advice which was,”Watch out for your Barleyhole!”

I felt bad for the guy who was dancing near us.  He was actually lucky enough to find a girl to dance with, but she was a sloppy drunk.  She screamed because she was so excited to hear Tik Tok crank up and she spun about and flung her hair into the guy’s face.  She finished her lutz with an elbow to the guy’s drink hand which sent the green mixed drink gushing all over the floor and all over the sloppy drunk girl.  My shoe was slightly wetted too.  The girl went stomping to the restroom to dry off.

The poor guy stood stunned for a moment and the dancing paused in the ring around him.  His drink was gone.  It was a pretty special drink that he had apparently been saving up to purchase since January.

He piled up all of the ones and pennies he received at Christmas.  “Thanks Grandma,” he would say, “I’m going to use this to buy a drink one day!”

These past 3 months all he could talk about was the drink he was about to purchase.  His few friends, though slightly annoyed with his one-trick-plans, shared the excitement for that special day that he would be able to buy a drink.  His co-workers knew of his plan too.  Even complete strangers would stop and listen all about his future drink!

When his piggy bank had grown to 7 or 8 dollars he was ready to go out.  “St. Patrick’s Saturday will be the day!” he screamed from his apartment window in the rainy afternoon! So he donned his green suspenders and his fake orange beard and made his way to the corner bar!

Back the present: Our hero was still standing stunned in the middle of the dance floor.  After yelling for the bar to stop the music to no avail, he picked up his glass and held it up to his tearing eyes.  He pouted with his lip jutted out as his friend was consoling him.  Having heard about this drink for months, his friend knew how devastating this was to him.  Tik Tok was still blaring so I could only see them mouthing words to each other, but the following is an accurate, true interpretation of what they were actually talking about:

“It spilled all over the floor!”

“I know man. I’m so sorry!”

“My drink is gone! How could this happen to me!?” he was in hysterics.

So his friend made everything better by promising to get the sloppy drunk’s phone number. “Look, I’m going to get her number.  Don’t worry about it, I’m going to get her number. We can go on a double date.  I’m going to get her number and you can talk to her. Everything is going to be just fine!”

After about 5 minutes of this conversing he seemed satisfied with the double date / phone number plan.  Perhaps he had been convinced that maybe there is more to life than that single drink.

As we were leaving, I saw him downstairs talking to the sloppy drunk girl.  He seemed very happy to see her again and they were having a lively conversation.  I could see it in his eyes that he knew he had a good chance of taking her home, taking off her dress, and wringing it out into a glass so he could finish what was left of that special special drink.

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