So... In our infinite wisdom, we were in Miami for St. Patty's Day.
Ostensibly, we were on hand to build the new SpeedServe cage for the Sony/Ericsson Tournament. It was just a happy coincidence that it was March 17th.
Kinda.
We (Gars, Jingalls & Yours Truly) busted ass all day, and with a little timely help near the end, we got the cage built.
We retired to our respective abodes off Brickell Avenue with plans to meet up for a drink and dinner...
Now- This is Miami, not Savannah.
I wasn't expecting the nightmare crowds on Miami Ave in Downtown... Wall-to-wall drunkenness doesn't begin to describe it.
When you mix Irish Drinking Tradition, A Latin Propensity for Escalation to Violent Interaction, and 5,000 people stuffed into a very small "street party" location...
Well, let's just say I had to leave VERY soon after arriving.
I have no patience for idjits who have over-imbibed before 9:00pm.
I saw more people that were hell-and-gone inebriated before a reasonable hour that night. What the hell, man? And this is Miami, for crying out loud...
I mean- I know people here can party with the best of them, but to see that many people barfing-in-the-street shitfaced by 9?
Hell, that's sign of Amateur Hour, not hardcore party people.
I mean, I would expect it in Savannah, not here in Miami.
I might have expected it on Oct. 10,
Día de la Independencia, but not on St. Patrick's Day.
As I waded through the crowd trying to find Jingalls, I kept getting jostled and elbowed...Fortunately I was dead cold sober, which saved at least a couple lives.
I got tired of the pushing, shoving and getting beer spilled on me, so I flipped on my "Coming through! Make a hole!" persona and bulldozed my way to the exit...
Several overdressed Latino males took offense to getting elbowed and spilling their beer on my way out and made ugly noises and perhaps thought for a split-second about defending their machismo, at least until they the saw the author of their hurt- the 6'5 300lb sunburned ogre plowing through the crowd like a runaway D7.
It didn't hurt that the only green I had to wear was an OD Blackwater t-shirt.
I made it out to the less-crowded part of Miami Av and waited for Jingalls...
It was here that I found some interesting blog fodder, to wit:
St. Patrick's Day Pick-Up lines...
"I am SO sorry. Come back to my place and I'll wash my vomit off your shoes."
"Wow... That green beer you're drinking would look awesome barfed up all over my bedroom floor."
"Suuure I'm wearin' green. If ye stick around later, I'll show you my leprecondom."
"Ooh, your feet are HUGE! What would a girl have to do to get a look at your shillelagh?"
"I said, 'Are you drunk yet?'"
"If you're going to pass out anyway, how 'bout doing it at my place?"
"Lassie, it's your ancestral duty to drive the snake out of my pants!"
"I'd like to invite to come catch a leprechaun with me. Maybe together we'll get Lucky!"
"I'm the Magical Leprechaun, and ye caught me, lass! Now I can grant ye one wish, as long as it involves sex."
And last...
"Hey! You wanna (mumble) leprechaun (mutter) my shillelagh (burp) o' the morning to ye (vomit)?"
Alright, back to Jax tomorrow...
TBG- ΜΟΛΩΝ ΛΑΒE
