I know there are many huge St. Patrick’s Day celebrations across this country. All boasting to be “the largest next to Boston!” I’m not certain how one could actually measure that, and more important, why in the world does it matter?! It’s not even OUR DAY. Have the largest Fourth of July party, you jerks.
Anyhow, Dallas tends to lose its mind on St. Paddy’s. Ask Ezekiel Elliott how it turned out for him in 2017. There’s a gigantic parade that Mark Cuban has saved (read: paid for) I don’t know how many times now. And then part of Greenville Ave. (a street of mostly bars and restaurants) is blocked off and becomes quite possibly the trashiest 1/2 mile in the United States of America. There must be people here from at least five area codes not even located in Dallas County. Here’s the fun part – this all takes place in the neighborhood I LIVE.
I did the parade and block party the first year I moved back from LA. I swore to never do that shit again. A month after that I moved in the neighborhood and from then on, my friends and I just do brunch and then a nice yard party. We sit in the sun, drink our weight in beer and watch all the crazy go by whist hoping none of it asks to use our bathrooms.
I now must confess, traditionally speaking, I have not made it past 5 p.m. on this day. And that’s being generous. Plus the chances of me crying at some point have been a solid 2:1. I’m pretty certain I am allergic to day drinking. At minimum, I end up with the world’s worst headache, take a three hour nap, then order Chinese food at 9 p.m. At most…well, thank god I’m not dead.
This year though. I was the fucking St. Paddy’s Day BOSS. I literally set the intention to make it to dinner (cause I am a grown ass woman). AND I DID IT. We were walking down Greenville late in the afternoon admiring the scenic piles of trash and puking people, as one does, and while holding my tongue not to shout Wakanda Forever at the lovely Kenyan people we met, I thought to myself, oh my god. So this is what it all looks like. And then – AND THEN – we went to dinner at a new Mexican food place. Which was LOVELY.
And it gets better. I came home, my neighbors were still throwing down, so I played one round of flip cup then ghosted (can you ghost at your own duplex?). I went to bed, slept like a champ, then woke up at 7 a.m. like a NORMAL GD PERSON.
Am I a grown up now?