St. Patrick’s Day in Midtown
Another holiday that is terrible to endure if you don’t drink, as I don’t.
The snow might have slowed us down, but didn’t stop us entirely. On Bonetti’s invitation, I found myself at Connelly’s on 45th St. for St. Patrick’s Day merriment. And by that I mean drunkenness on an industrial scale. It’s one thing to go out drinking, but it’s another to be a friggin animal! Yes, I’ve been to University, and yes, I’ve been to Hoboken, but somehow I didn’t expect this. At least I’ll be prepared for the calamity next year.
Eventually we wondered through the cold to Third and Long, where we watched Pittsburgh advance in the Tournament. Mischa turned up as I was on my way out. We gotta stop meeting like this. (in bars surrounded by the drunk and Irish)
a tale of New York, family, the opposite sex, the weather