St. Patrick’s Day is a pretty huge day for me (three Irish names) and is an even larger deal for the city that I call home. Our city has one of the most extravagant (read: drunken) St. Patrick’s Day celebrations in the country, and this year was going to be my first time ever experiencing it. Perhaps the spirit of St. Patrick himself has thrown various interferences in my quest to celebrate this holiday with my people, but this was going to be my final year to celebrate.
Needless to say, Saturday was a shitshow. Goodie, Mario, and Funleavy were spending the day out on the town getting wasted with some girl Mario met at the gym and her friends (typical). In typical Ryan fashion I was interested in one of the girls but was too busy singing along to a Backstreet Boys song to pay attention to her (dammit).
Girl (to Mario): I think you’re friend’s cute but he needs to ease it with the Backstreet Boys.
I eased up on the BSB and things started to look up for me going forward. At this point I considered this girl in the bag so I decided to continue to casually hit on her as the day went on. Apparently this girl was on a quest for loving and decided to take matters into her own hands and (allegedly) grabbed Funleavy by the junk. He liked it (obviously) and I was immediately annoyed that she was just trolling for the d. Whatever. Goodie came in and tried to make a last minute “Alpha as fuck” run at her by walking up to her and saying “You’re going to be my St. Patrick’s Day Kiss” or something similarly eloquent. She was not a fan of this move and rejected him as well. Three up, three down and that’s your game baseball fans.
After Day One of debauchery we all went out on Day Two to a day house party in the younger part of town that I’ve mentioned a couple times. This was guaranteed to be a great day because we had three parties to bounce around to with lots of girls at each (we’re planners). Naturally, we start contacting all of the people we’ve lined up and come to discover that they went too hard the day before and would not be able to make it out today, hence our plans derailed. Nevertheless the first house party that we were going to was a huge success and I spent the day doing Car Bombs, playing slapcup, and casually hitting on this girl I’ve struck out with at least four times (The Little Ryan that Could [and still didn’t]). Mario invited a couple girls from our alma mater to come over which made the day more interesting, but we ended up leaving the party without girls in tow.
When house parties dry up the natural progression is to go to a bar, so off we went! Funleavy, my brother, and a couple of Funleavy’s friends from home went around the corner to a bar and jumped in line. Hoping a cornucopia of beautiful woman would be awaiting us inside, I had no problem spending fifteen minutes outside of a bar that is normally half empty, especially when a group of three girls came over to us and asked us to cut in line. Sure thing! There was one 1 in the group so after Funleavy struck out with her I quickly went in for the kill. Her name was Justine and it was her first time being in the younger part of town so she was excited. I shortly made fun of her for being an Italian girl celebrating St. Patrick’s Day and she absolutely ate it up (thanks, alcohol). It was clear that I was going to get somewhere with this girl, especially after she gave me her number ten minutes after meeting me.
Sidenote: The fourth car bomb that I had done that day took me dangerously close to blackout town and this girl was clearly not very drunk.
Other Sidenote: While I’ve never met the guy, Blackout Ryan seems like a lot of fun in doses but does not seem like a guy that you want to give your number to within five minutes of meeting.
So at this point I was trying to wrestle the moral quandary of whether or not I can make out with a girl I just met, in the line for the bar that we were going to. Inside, no question, but we were still outside! Uncharted territory! As I was trying to wrap my mind about this scenario one of Dunleavy’s friends saved the day and started throwing awful pickup lines at her. I took this opportunity to sneak right into the bar and sprint past the man collecting the $20 Cover Charge and head to the bathroom. $20 Cover charges are for losers.
Justine spent the next fifteen minutes in line talking to Funleavy’s friend and seemingly shutting him down in every fathomable fashion. When she finally was allowed to enter the bar I was consuming my second strong drink and fading quickly into heavy intoxication. She took this as an opportunity to ask me on a date (why would she do this?) and continue to talk to me about my life. Regardless, she was very cute so I drunkenly agreed to it and said I would talk to her during the week about it.
Note: St. Patrick’s Day is not a day to set up future meetings, it is a day to make casual friends that you will hopefully never see again.
Thankfully, the spirit of St. Patrick saved me from Blackout Ryan and the bar closed at 7 PM (wtf?!) so we all had to leave separately. I honestly don’t remember the rest of that day but for some reason I woke up feeling like I threw a complete game with my left arm (translation: why the hell does my shoulder still hurt) and with a text from Justine saying “So when are we going to do this date?”
To Be Continued