Lá fhéile Pádraig sona dhuit!
There, now that I’ve got my fake Irish pretensions out of the way, let’s get on to the real business. (I am one eighth Irish, don’t ya know.) St. Patrick’s Day, one of my favourite holidays; Guinness Stout, one of my favourite beers! Who knew that the Irish were actually good at a few things? Not several hundred years worth of English pigs it would seem!
This year on Valentine’s Day, my friend Ian and I spent the evening watching the ICC Cricket World Cup, drinking caesars, and generally grumbling about our lives. You see, there were girls that we wanted to meet, but could not, and contacting them was a rather delicate situation. Let them know via handheld telegram (text message) that we were thinking of them on such a commercialized holiday and risk seeming unoriginal and more attached than one should be at our respective stages, or ignore them at our own peril? So we decided to do what many men in need of self medicating and a change of disposition should do: head downtown for a change of scenery and a pint in an attempt to leave behind our depressing states of mind. Hopping on the bus, we set our sights on James Bay’s own Bent Mast.
Things were already pretty blurry when we arrived: was it the caesars or the tears?
Date a boy who drinks. Date a boy who spends his money on fine alcohol instead of cars, who decorates his house with empty bottles instead of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit posters. Date a boy who has a list of beers he has tried, and a list of beers he aspires to try.
Checking his list.
Find a boy who drinks. Not one who drinks ten Budweiser every Friday night, but one who tries a new beer every time he visits the craft beer section of the specialty liquor store. He’s the one who spends half an hour browsing in the liquor store, only to buy one beer. You see that weird guy asking for his whisky neat, and then having to explain to the sports bar waitress what that means? He’s the one you want. He can’t resist analysing the nose of the cheap whisky he just ordered.
Every Pabst takes another little piece of my heart Turning it towards what I’ve got And away from what I’ve lost
Spinning the wheel of wax Hoping to win the whole ball of fortune So that one day I’ll meet someone better than you
Back at the end of May 2013, I was driving up the hill to go and visit my grandma. As I approached her place, I made eye contact with a pretty girl who was walking a dog on the side of the road. After I drove past her, I looked back and she was looking at me! It was a sunny day, the kind of day one might find love, and I thought to myself, “I love this stuff!” I parked my car and got out, wishing that I could go and talk to her, but by now she was too far away and I was expected by my grandma. Still, it was worth a shot! I ran over to the road, but she was too far down to catch up to or call out to, so I did what any caveman would do on impulse to attract a mate; I picked up a large chunk of asphalt and threw it down the road. It did not go nearly far enough to attract her attention, but it did land near a lady working in the garden of the Jehovah’s Witnesses Kingdom Hall, who looked up and scowled at me! I took one fleeting look down the road and scurried back towards my grandma’s, never to see my “asphalt girl” again! Continue Reading