Top of the Morning to yez...
As many of you will know, up until last summer I was living in the fine city of Chicago, Illinois. Chicago is a fantastic place to drink; the area I was living in on the South Side, not so much, but there are some brilliant pubs elsewhere which are cheap and friendly. And the pubs on St Patrick’s Day have to be seen to be believed…

The weekend before St Patrick’s Day last year, some American friends and I went out to watch the parade that snakes its way through the downtown Chicago area. After this, we headed west of downtown to grab a beer or two and settled in a pretty busy Irish bar. After standing around with pints for a while, we managed to squeeze onto the end of a table with another party. As the afternoon turned to evening and we got quietly sozzled, we took over more and more of the table until it was just our group sat there.

Around 7pm, two german tourists came into the now fairly rowdy bar and asked if they could join us, to which we naturally agreed. One produced a huge bag of potato chips (yeah, alright, crisps, whatever) and started to offer them round the table. As my friend Jess reached into the bag, I said, jokingly, “you want to watch that, taking food off strangers in bars, they might have laced them with Rohypnol.” Jess paused, considered it, then continued to root around in the bag uttering the now immortal words, “Nah, I’ll eat them, I mean, I wouldn’t want to be raped on an empty stomach…”

I laughed till the tears rolled down my legs. As did the 5 marines standing next to us. The night went pretty much downhill after that and my last sober memory (*) is of Jess’ boyfriend being asked to leave a rather smart cocktail bar about 3 hours later because he had intimated that the barmaid was a hooker.

(*) not strictly true. I was neither sober, nor is it the last thing I can remember. I’m trying to blank out the last thing I can remember as it involved me going home with Jess’ boyfriend’s 22 year old roommate, thus slightly buggering up my policy of “don’t pull someone who cannot clearly recall the 80’s…"
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Fri 6 Feb 2009, 13:54, 5 replies)

harry's velvet lounge by any chance?
got let off a 700 dollar bar tab in there once by my guardian angel who was moonlighting as a cocktail waitress.

Nearly got arrested for impersonating a fireman, climbing into a firetruck and pulling the hooter (for want of a better word) while it was still indoors and walking home on top of a barrel.

Quite an evening. Love that fucking town.
(pounana Slept well, and dreamed of large women, on, Fri 6 Feb 2009, 14:50, closed)

Christ
I think it might have been. I mean, I could find it if I went back, but I'm not totally sure I can remember what it was called. It was an awesome place though, as is the rest of the city...
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Fri 6 Feb 2009, 15:31, closed)

"the pubs on St Patrick’s Day have to be seen to be believed…"
Why, what goes on?
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Fri 6 Feb 2009, 15:29, closed)

It's full of people like me
exaggerating.

:)

nah, I've just never seen so many people get into the spirit of daytime drinking while wearing green. we're talking thousands in the downtown area. it was a bit like new year's eve, only a hell of a lot less snowy and cold.
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Fri 6 Feb 2009, 15:33, closed)

I'll vouch
for that. It's better than Boston on St. Patrick's Day. I've never been to Ireland, but that's what I imagine it's like.
(FleetlordVT, Sun 8 Feb 2009, 11:53, closed)