Unable to Think of a Title That Isn't Just a Lame Play on Words That Will Cause You to Groan and Hate Me

So I caved on Friday and succumbed to the St. Pattie's Day demi-gods, despite my uncomfortability with large crowds (and my even bigger uncomfortability with large DRUNKEN crowds). And I actually had a rip-roaring good time, shock of all shocks.

Apparently it was meant to be, because cruising through downtown only minutes after the parade let up, I managed to find a fricking METERED parking space on E. 9th, only about a block or so from pretty much any bar activities a person might wanna partake in. And then the lovely Ms. Mo managed to get me in to Flannery's for free (which also included me getting to line-jump as though I were some big-name supah-star). And then some random bead guy paid $10 to get me into the armory later in the afternoon without even telling me (so I got to hear those magical words--"You, yeah you--you're already paid for").

I drank me some good booze, had me some good conversations, hugged me some jolly drunken fellows and ladies, and got to wear lame-ass four-leaf-clover antennas.

All in all, I was surprised because what could've been a drunken mess (and maybe eventually was) felt more like a huge city-wide feeling of cheer and cameraderie that I was completely not expecting and haven't ever really felt in Cleveland before. It was nice, and I suspect I'll be heading back next year as well.

Oh, and just for the record, you will be happy to know that apparently guys *DO* make passes at girls who wear glasses. (Bizarrely, "those are fucking great glasses" was the most frequent compliment I received from flirtatious guys--apparently it ain't all about the tits, babies.)

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