I love St. Patrick’s Day.
But I hate waiting in line, girls who dress like ladies of the evening, and LPDB (Lincoln Park Douche Bags- a new term I heard in the bathroom of a bar yesterday).
This makes celebrating appropriately in Chicago a difficult balance.
Luckily, every year, whoever I can scrounge together heads to Ginger’s Ale House in the afternoon of St. Patrick’s Day (observed) and has some drinks in a relatively un-jam packed bar where undoubtably, you’ll end up with an actual Irish waitress.
Which is pretty awesome.
This year, we headed over there around 2:30, had some green beer, and then were joined by GB & company.
Who strongly suggested the time was right for car bombs.
And shots of whiskey.
And more green beer.
It was at this point that I decided to toss all of the salt and pepper to the floor.
And put the ketchup bottle from the table in my bag.
Which meant that it was time to leave.
Also, we were starving, and ready for another one of my favorite St. Patrick’s day (observed) traditions.
Ordering Chinese food in the afterglow of all of the above things.
Anyway, this morning, I’m headed out to brunch with my visiting friend CM (and a gaggle of other chickadees I’m excited to see), and then the day consists of working off the car bombs and doing something interesting for Sunday dinner.
And dealing with this car bomb and whiskey induced hangover.
Check you later, chicks!