Saint Pats 2006, in Pictures

Top o' the Mornin' to ya!

In the bleary-eyed aftermath of another triumphant St. Patrick's Day celebration, I thought I'd share some of my photographic plunder from our raucous afternoon and boozin' and boogyin' in the greatest city in the world! And this time, I'll keep my voluminous verbosity to an absolute minimum! "Nuff Said!"

This sad shot is the of almighty McHale's sign... attached to a boarded-up shopfront, waiting for renovation... it shall glow and beckon hungry revelers never again...

Ever since our buddy, Chris, joined the Suffolk County Police Department, we've all adopted their official St. Patrick's Day celebration as our own. So for the fifth year running, we've accompanied Chris, his co-workers, and the mysterious St. Patrick's Groupies at the Salloon, a bar on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

I know for a fact that "Everyone Loves THAT Irish Girl"... especially me!

Chris, Johnny Z, Ally, Kat, and I rendezvoused at the bar at 2:30 for a 3-hour open bar free-for-all: kilts and beer cans were flying everywhere! Outside of a fraternity mixer, you've never seen people drink with such a purpose! And I was no exception, downing around 8 beers in the next two hours. That may not seem like a lot, but when you realize the bar's maximum occupancy was probably violated by at least 200 extra revelers, fighting your way to one of the beer stations was a harrowing quest in and of itself. So accomplishing 8 rounds was nothing short of heroic for our brave little band!

Ally and Kat, showin' Manhattan how they do it back in Douglaston! DMG Represent!

St. Patrick's Day has its own strange participants that you don't usually see the other 364 days of the year. Gangs of guys with big furry hats and kilts can walk into any bar or eating establishment with no invitation, and start playing their bagpipes. And not only are they allowed to do this all over the city, but they're applauded! And somehow, even when there's not enough reason to breathe in some of these joints, entire squadrons of these guys can still somehow squeeze in and put on an impromptu performance. I'd love to see these guys try that same stunt in three months... not bloody likely!

This St. Patrick's Day was brought to you by BEER... and Lots of It! I think this is the first time I've ever seen Ally double-fisting beers before. It was awesome. I would've asked her to marry me, if I hadn't done so already!

Another specialized subspecies of St. Patrick's Day are the mysterious St. Patrick's groupies. Pale white, fair-haired, and freckled... decked out in bright green get-ups with ridiculous slogans printed across their fronts, and obnoxious Guinness pants - these Celtic gals are out in force to get their groove-on. They prey mainly on NY's finest uniformed studs - the firefighters and police officers. Some of these middle-aged minxes go after these guys with such unbridled enthusiasm, you'd think it was White People Mating Season, or something. The rest of the year, these Gaelic Gals spend their time in Irish bars, shopping at Target, and working at Pizza Hut.

Awww! I have no clever caption here... this is just a great shot of Maggie and Chris.

Later on, we were joined by Mikey G, Johnny G and his girlfriend, Hale, and Johnny Z's fiancee Vicky. We headed over to another bar in the area, called "Genesis." It was a somewhat calmer affair, though still packed and was once again visited by one of the numerous pipe bands cruising the St. Patrick's circuit that evening. By this time, I was quite in the bag... having recently quaffed a sumptuous ice-cold pint of Guinness bought for me by Chris. There had been an unforeseen mixup with my open-bar armband at the Salloon, and he felt guilty. I didn't blame him... but I wasn't going to turn down a Guinness. No way. Well, I had to see a man about a horse and made my way through the drunken throng to the nearest lavatory. I saw a door that appeared to say, "Laddies," and since this was an Irish place (wasn't every bar an "Irish place" on St. Patrick's Day?) I assumed this meant it was the men's room. But as I staggered in, I found myself looking at a woman washing her hands at the sink. "I guess the ladies room is crowded, so she came in here," I thought. I set about to do my business in the nearest stall, when, through my drunken haze, I realized that there were no urinals in the men's room. It was then, that I realized that I wasn't in the "Laddies' Room," I was in the "Ladies' Room." Of course, I figured, I was already in here, so I should finish what I started.

Simple St. Patrick's Day Math: The beer keeps flowin' and the cheeks start glowin'

Soon after my exciting trip to the little girls' room, our party agreed that we were all starving, and Johnny Z soon led us to nearby Totonno's Pizzeria. Four delicious brick oven pies and three orders of garlic knots later, and we were happily sated. Overcome with exhaustion (read: intoxication) Ally, Kat, Maggie, and I decided to call it a day and head back to Penn Station. After a quick stop in a Duane Reade for some marshmallow peeps, we jumped in a cab and were on our way. The drive back was slow, with the streets saturated with party buses and throngs of revelers, so Kat made small talk with our driver, "Amlal Mohammed" (not making this up) and kept on offering him one of her peeps. Amlal never took her up on her offer, to his loss, of course. Afterwards in Penn, we luckily avoided any belligerent drunks or obnoxious party people... and I'm happy to report that there was no praying to the porcelain goddess that evening, either. All-in-all, it was one of the best St. Patrick's I've enjoyed in quite a while!

Another awesome St. Patrick's Day at the Salloon! "Cheers!" from Ally, Johnny Z, Maggie, Chris, Kat, and the ever-present Coors Lite Can!

Feedback Question of the Day:
"How was your St. Paddy's? Good? Bad? Ridiculous?"