St Patrick’s Day
2010
Times Square
Fact: Saint Patrick banished the snakes from Ireland. Why then do they all come slither about on his day of honor?
Fact: Holy days are meant to venerate Saints. Last time I checked, vomiting at their likenesses fell under the ‘desecration’ category.
Now that we have the facts straight, this is how my day went. It all started because I found myself enjoying the uncharacteristically warm weather so much yesterday that, instead of descending into the 14th street station and taking the train to class, I followed the glistening sidewalk all the way to Midtown. Of course in my sun-drenched daisy-filled summer-lovin’ mind, I completely forgot the occasion. You know, that day where every asshole is the Irish kind.
Well, as soon as I hit 23rd street, my rose-colored glasses turned into green beer goggles. They were everywhere. I mean everywhere. Crawling out of the sewers, clogging the crosswalks, flopping around haphazardly in front of bars wearing Jerzees with names like McGillicutty across the back in big orange letters. Screeching poisonous renditions of Danny Boy and Kerrick Fergus from these greasy drooling hatches while laying belly up on the gummy dogshit pavement. It was horrifying.
This was some serious shit. Why was I the only person who appeared visibly shaken by the thousands of possessed green gnomes that had taken to the streets in vomit-inducing revelry? What exactly were they celebrating? Did they even know?
I slunk along like a wounded animal, trying to disappear into the bricks of the grime-covered midtown buildings all the way to my class on 35th street. Luckily by the time I got out of class, the revelers had slithered on back into whatever holes they called “bed.” I walked down through the shallow-breathing Chelsea streets back to my apartment, careful to avoid the river of corned-beef vomit that mixed with green confetti as it made its slimy retreat into the underworld– where it belonged, with other green things.
Saint Patrick, wherever you are, please take this as a formal apology on behalf of humanity.
Sincerely,
Alessandra De Benedetti
i drank a jug of irish cream that night…you could just smell the puke coming off this pungently-written post
Snakes be praised!…