Mar 172018
 

I know this will be surprising, but St. Patrick’s Day is pretty much the only holiday that I don’t get even a little excited about. The only reason I even knew it was St. Patrick’s Day is because I live in Pittsburgh and they love that shit here. So all week during my lunch break walks, I had it rubbed in my face by street vendors shilling shamrock Steelers shirts, stores dressing up their windows with leprechauns and pots o’ gold, and cafes inseminating their lattes with hearty squirts of mint and naming it something lucky. I think that they should offer sweet potato lattes like they have in Korea, a nice little hat-tip to the potato famine. IT DOESN’T ONLY HAVE TO BE ABOUT MINT, PEOPLE.

Except for Kelly’s Bar — that shamrock sign has been there since the beginning of time…clearly.

Even stinky Wholey’s got into the spirit by dressing up their stuffed bear mascot, which by the way, I always catch in my periphery and think that it’s a real person and start to say hello. Something similar happened the other day, farther down the street, when I thought some bitch was staring at me. I was on the phone with Henry and as I walked closer to her, I was hissing to Henry about how I was going to punch this broad who couldn’t take her eyes off me for some reason, and then once she was about three feet away I realized it was a mannequin.

I have really got to do something about my eyes, you guys.

We had a shamrock-y pot luck at work yesterday but I was working from home so Henry got a reprieve from having to make something for me to take in. I was kind of glad to not have to be there because I am so low-key pouty on St. Patrick’s Day for some reason, and I don’t really think it’s all just because of the Fork Foul of 1992. Maybe it’s because I spent most of my childhood enduring Erin Go BRAAAAAAA jokes or perhaps it’s because I just generally dislike the idea of yet another excuse for drunk people to run rampant and piss everywhere. Whatever the reason, I just don’t really care much for this day but I’m trying to not be too bitter about it.

I do really like Shamrock Shakes though, so thank you, McDonald’s for making this holiday slightly more bearable for me!

Oh, and don’t let my name fool you — I’m 0% Irish.

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