Happy St. Patrick's Day, y'all. Or, as it's been dubbed, Amateur Night. When a young girl pays a cover to sit in an Irish bar that's free and usually pretty chill every other night of the year as people who don't usually drink much drink themselves silly and wear 500 strands of green beads and look like assholes.
But, it's Boston; I have about .005% Irish in me, so I'm going for it. It won't be as annoying as last year since we're not going downtown, and I hope to not meet any guys without souls. In fact, I'd be fine not meeting any guys since I have had more than enough of their shenanigans lately. I've got to remember to take it easy since I've got to get up early and head to RI for a Family Summit.
So have a green cupcake and a Guinness for lunch to celebrate our good friends the Irish. I'll pass along your well-wishes to the fine men who run the place near my house.
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