I hate St. Patrick’s Day.
It’s not the holiday, perse. I love the color green, don’t have any issues with the Irish, and am always looking for a reason to celebrate something. I guess it’s the way in which this particular holiday is celebrated. The early bar day? Ugh. The green beer? Eww.
Don’t get me wrong. I welcome the chance to have fun and celebrate. But to do it by drinking myself into oblivion? Not so much.
It’s not that I don’t like alcohol. A bottle of wine is a great way to unwind. A good martini or rum and coke is a welcome drink to sip on. But getting wasted is just not my thing anymore. Neither is beer. I liked it in college when it was cheap. But now it just makes me feel bloated and sick after just one glass. Now that I have expendable income, I’d much rather pay a little extra to have a glass of wine or a cocktail and avoid the icky beer feeling. But those options don’t work so well with green food coloring.
I really think my hatred of St. Patty’s Day stems from my general hatred of bars. And that hatred has many reasons, best conveyed in list form:
- They up my risk for lung cancer. Here in Michigan we haven’t yet adopted the forward-thinking so many other fair cities have by outlawing smoking in public venues. This alone often makes me consider moving. I hate how I smell after the bar, I hate inhaling others’s bad habits (I don’t care if you do it, I just don’t want to be an unwilling participant), and I hate the feeling of not being able to breathe clean air for long periods of time.
- They require me to dress up. And often wear heels. Which I don’t do so well. Just this past weekend, I made the poor decision of wearing 3″ heels out. They looked good with the outfit and kept my jeans from dragging. Except the bar we went to was packed and I found myself standing for 3 hours. Even if I wore tennis shoes, it’d be painful for me to stand for 3 hours. Which leads me to…
- They’re packed. And loud. I enjoy meeting up with friends for a drink, if we can sit down and have an actual conversation. I do not enjoy standing for long periods of time. I do not enjoy having to press my lady bits against strangers as I force my way through the crowd to take a pee. And I do not enjoy the inability to speak the next day because my friends and I had to yell at each other to have a conversation.
- They require me to be up past my bed time. And I’m too old for that shit. I can handle 1 or 2 a.m. if I’m just sitting around relaxing. I can’t handle it if I’m inhaling smoke, wearing heels, AND yelling over the din. It all makes me very tired, very quickly.
I think I’m in the minority with this hatred. My boyfriend loves the bar and is looking forward to the annual St. Patty’s Day bar crawl his friend’s brother throws in Chicago. All of his friends also love a good bar night. My friends are a little less barfly-esque, but as 20-somethings, it’s still a common meeting place.
Obviously, my penchant is not for bars and St. Patrick’s Day really is the epitome of bar love. So I guess over the years I’ve decided the holiday just isn’t for me.
So while the boy is trekking to Chicago this weekend to drink heavily and pretend to be Irish for a day, I will be staying home. While you guys are out enjoying green beer and plastic leprechaun hats on Tuesday, I will (hopefully) be working. (Side note: I find out on Monday if I still have a job. How brutal is it that they’re hanging it over our heads for the weekend? Well, really, the past three months and a weekend. Ugh.)
Maybe I’ll at least don a plastic leprechaun hat. Those are fun.