|Saint Patty's Day In Chicago, They Turn Their Water Green with Green Beer Piss. I Keed!|
Have you ever spent Saint Patty's Day in a college town? I have, plenty of them actually. I woke up this morning and was reminded that I am living in a college town, as I drove up the street to a local coffee shop to a inject harshly sweet and caffeinated mocha into my system so as to have the ability to wake up enough to write this post. I think next time I need to ask the girl to make my drink in a to go cup or at least not to do all that fancy stuff with the whip cream, because my drink arrived with a dollop of whip cream and pink sprinkles. Or is it pink sugar? Not sure. All I know is that it looks like a pink poodle dropped a steamer in my peppermint flavored mocha. At least it wasn't green sprinkles, just to remind me that it's Saint Patty's Day in college town.
As I drove up a saw first a couple of students in green, as I drove up further, another, and as I turned the corner, there was an Asian girl wearing a top hat with green and white stripes, furry boots that it seems she gave some green highlights, a long sleeved green shirt, and green eye shadow. I was tempted to ask her to let me take a picture of her so I could post on my blog, but I was not caffeinated enough yet to imagine myself being sociable or polite enough to ask her to let me do so. After her, I saw a group of about 5 or 7 students wearing random green in the form of shirts, stickers on their face, and a look of excitement as they looked forward to a long day of alcohol and upchucking the mochas and lattes they drank in order to be up early enough for today's celebrations.
It's been a while since I've seen this spectacle, because I mainly stay locked up in my apartment trying to continue my work as a dissertation writer for my Masters in the Ivory Tower. Saint Patty's Day in a college town is one of the better public parties I have seen or experienced in all my years in academia. When you turn 21 it's even better because you get to share your penchant for getting "fucking drunk man," with other real adults. I remember not really caring for the day itself, I just wanted an excuse to go out and get drunk. We would all be united not because we respected each other as human beings, or because we had a mutual understanding that that the blood in our veins flowed red, and therefore made us all part of the human race, no that's ridiculous, what united us was whatever piece of green we wore on our person, and our desire to get so shitfaced we could blog about it in the future, you know once we became adults and stuff.
Ah yes, I remember a few of those years when I actually went out to indulge in the libations. Me and my friends would remind each other if one of us wasn't wearing green, and be like "hey fucker, you're not wearing green, you're going to get pinched." And the response was usually one of two, "I don't give a fuck," or the more creative, "They can pinch these nuts, fool!" Celebrations would begin as early as 7am, and many times the night before, especially if Saint Patty's landed on a weekend, and in college towns, the weekend begins Thursday afternoon, so yes about 3-4 days of celebration was something to look forward to. Once out at the bars we'd engage in deep conversations, such as "Who's the hottest bitch you fucked?" "That one fight in junior high, high school, or was it here in college? I think it was last semester actually."
Actually I recall one of my last years in California, driving back to my apartment complex and seeing a girl, with the crotch and thigh area a darker shade than the rest of her jeans (I doubt she spilled a drink on herself), sitting on the step in front of my apartment door. She was banging on my door and yelling at someone to let her in. I had a friend visiting, and he was in there with his girlfriend staying in my roommate's room. I parked a few spots away, but I could hear her yelling "Let me in! That's my house! Get out of my house!" To which my friend and neighbors also yelled through their windows "Dude! It's not your place! Get outta here!" I shook my head, I didn't want to deal with it, plus in her drunken state she probably had enhanced strength and she'd be able to take me if I tried to get into my apartment. She'd probably think I was trying to break into her home, and push me out of the way, lock herself in there and then my friend and his girlfriend would have to deal with her. Actually that would have made for a better blog post. Sucks that I just thought about it now :/ Nonetheless I didn't want to deal with the situation, so I drove away, I can't remember where I ended up. But after an hour or so, I came back and she was gone. My friend told me that he heard her friends show up to pick her up to take her back to her real apartment.
The year before that I'd gone out some friends and we somehow ended up at a table with a couple of local Chicanas. Nice girls, one of them was almost thoroughly poofaced though. Me and a couple of friends sat there chatting with them, before the Poofaced one got upset at some random hot girl who was admittedly the prototypical "Ugly-American," and she tried to pick a fight. Poofaced girl's friend calmed her down enough, and she sat there as we continued talking, but a bouncer eventually showed up and escorted her out, because Ugly-American Girl had ratted on her. Poofaced Girl's friend followed her out, I'm guessing calling her a ride or cab, because Friend of Pooface eventually came back a short time later, and continued to drink with us, I think she stuck around because she had a thing for my friend, otherwise I think she would have left with her girlfriend. Later that night we'd end up at a pub and I would meet a girl in line, make out with her, get annoyed with her, make a jackass of myself, and then leave. I got home, did some drunk dialing, spoke to a couple of friends and finally passed out. Which I guess wasn't such a bad night because I remember upon arrival at the first bar my friend had complained about seeing some guy he had beef with. My thing was just, "let's avoid a fight." My friend's thing was "if they want to fight, fuck it." But the fight didn't occur, we stayed on our side, and they theirs, and any night you can avoid a bar fight, is a good night, kinda, sorta.
Another year, during a creative writing course a professor complained about a drunken man on Saint Patty's Day morning, who had tried to pet her dog, when she admittedly mistakenly decided to walk her dog on that morning. I can't remember what breed of dog she said it was, but she was proud of it, and her thoughts were how dare this drunken man on Saint Patty's Day try to pet my whatever fucken breed dog?! And I sat there thinking, he should've pet your dog with his green beer urine.
Near the window of this cafe there is what I'm guessing to be a professor sitting there going through a stack of papers, possibly grading them. He's wearing a green zippered sports sweat shirt, looks to be in his late 40's. I don't know how he can manage to not turn his head to his left, look out the window and people watch as the students walk by in their greenery. He must be desensitized to Saint Patty's Day in College Town. I imagine that to be my future if I end up employed in a college town.
As I sit at this cafe, looking out the window as students walk by decked out in green something or other, I can't help but think, that this is one of the days, at least in a college town when Chicanos/as can come out drink, with fellow college students that are white. Who gives a shit what color you are on Saint Patty's Day, because for at least one night during the academic year they won't view us as Hispanic Male Suspects; on that day we're all trying to be the same thing, no not Irish, don't be ridiculous, we're trying to be of one race-Green.