St. Buttlick’s Day

I suppose we all got a little spoiled in 2007 when St. Patrick’s Day fell on a Saturday. People had the entire day to not be able to find a seat, not be able to get a drink, not be able to find a cab, not be able to see the parade, not be able to find their pants—and then we had all day Sunday to not be able to remember any of it.

This year, St. Patrick’s Day is on Monday, which means I will be working. I could take a vacation day, but for what? So I can get a head start on fighting my way through some crowded downtown “pub,” enduring a chorus of bagpipes (whose idea was it to invent an instrument that sounds like you’re squeezing a bag full of horny cats?) while trying to keep down an Irish traditional breakfast that tastes like a malignant ass tumor? Only to have to drag myself into work the following day and pretend that I haven’t just shipped a hefty percentage of brain cells down the green beer river the day before?

Nah, I can wait until afternoon to begin celebrating. There’s just one drawback to having a late start: by the time I will be done saving the world one trifold brochure at a time, most of my friends (and everyone else I come in contact with) will have already transformed themselves into annoying, belligerent asshats.

Now, I’m not criticizing—I would be doing the same thing if I had the day off and could afford a 15-hour bar tab. But I have reservations about taking a vacation day to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. It’s like having your boss ask you, “Hey Stephanie, could you take care of this assignment today?” and replying “Hm, sounds fun, but I’d actually rather spend the day getting crap-my-pants drunk, a-thank you.”

So instead I will be celebrating in company of funny-hat wearing drunken buttlicks who have had the luxury of a full-day head start on me. I suppose I’ll just have to be patient and keep in mind that I was once in their green-puke-splattered shoes. And perhaps—even if it’s only for one St. Patrick’s Day—I won’t be the buttlick who’s falling out of chairs or hanging out in an alley, talking to that nice police officer’s horse.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!