St.Patrick may have chased the snakes from Ireland, but if he really wanted to be sainted he'd chase the drunks from the streets of New York on "his" Irish holiday. Besides the traditional parade his holiday is marked by pubs displaying their specials and enticing increasingly younger kids inside.These kids don't seem interested in celebrating their heritage but on getting blasted faster snd faster. Many of those blotting the NY streets are neither from the city or of age to drink. Nre Yorkers have gotten used to crowds of green clad teen and pre-teens stumbling hollow-eyed down the streets, stopping only to throw up, accost one another or annoy passerbys. This "holiday" has become such as to make the much maligned Puerto Rican Day parade seem a picnic.
Just three hours ago I was heading home when my path on 3rd and 27th was blocked by a group of drunk Irish kids whose size resembled a curling team and whose collective IQ that of a shillegagh. When I attempted to pass them by walking into the street one grabbed me and another hit me and shattered my glasses, all for the "crime" of not wearing anything green. I stumbled into the pub and tried to talk to the manager, who told me he couldn't say anything because this was their biggest day.
Bloody nosed and holding my broken glasses I found a police van on 28th and Third (my corner). When I told one of the four officers there what happened he remarked that I looked awful and laughed. Another asked me where it happened and said they'd see about it. When I offered to go along to point the kids out and talk to the manager they said they didn't need me there.
Up The Irish (count my finger) or Erin Go Boom!
