Just because the nice man sells you blinking green clover pins, doesn’t mean you have to put them on your breasts. Lesson learned.
Picture it: Boston, St. Patty’s Day, 2003.
Rachael was up visiting from IU…and I mean, come on, who wouldn’t leave Indiana for Boston…and I decided to take her downtown for a couple* of drinks in honor of the biggest holiday in Boston. We had no idea how big.
Being the cheapos that we are, selection of the drinking venue rested entirely on the cover charge. Our winner, The Tap, was $5. By pure luck (pun intended) we ran into some people that I know and found a few tables at the very front, right next to the open windows. If you’re familiar with how loud I am sober, you can only imagine the intensity when you add a few pints of cider in the mix. We arrived at 6 and by 8 Rach and I had officially designated ourselves head of marketing for the bar. We shouted out at anyone passing by on the sidewalk, telling them reasons why they needed to drink there. It was using this method, with promoters walking by, that we came to get our attire for the evening: a green budweiser shirt (tied 80s style at the waist), a green leiu, green beads, a green clover painted on our face, and of course, the blinking tits.
Fun Fact: On St. Patty’s Day, FBI stands for “Full Blooded Irish.” The men, bearing tshirts with the letters, don’t mind it if you scream “FBI!!! woohooo!!! FBI!!!!” at them.
Once we dragged ourselves away from the window, and only becaused they closed them, we decided to hit the dance floor. We run into a bunch of Navy boys who, luck would have it, were leaving the next day “for the war.” Well, now’s it’s 10pm and I have decided it is my civic duty to make sure they have a good time on their last night out. It’s after I drink a Bud Light, while dancing, that I start making out with said Navy boy. He happens to be named Patrick; I mean, come on, don’t I have to kiss him?? This is case and point as to why I do not drink beer.
At any rate, we drag ourselves home on the T, where I find myself passed out. Rach awakens me to get my cell number to give some dude, a dude I thought SHE LIKED, and then later she’s all “now why did you give him your REAL number??” Ummm, I don’t know, cause I was drunk and passed out and I thought you liked him? At any rate, he’s been phone stalking us for days. Rach finally had to tell him this was “Janice” and when he said “but the voicemail says Kristina” she replies back “well, I guess someone must have snuck in and changed it!” CLICK.
It’s good to have friends like that.
Oh, and another thing about those clover lights- they have been known to cause epileptic seizures. You really can’t bring them out in the light of day, they’ll mess you up.