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In which i went to O’Flanagans

shamrock

OMG! It’s St. Patrick’s Day.  Of course, I’m not actually IRISH (not at all actually) but I certainly have had some fun on this particular day before.  The best one ever was when I was 23 and living in New York City.  In fact, I went out with someone I really didn’t know before and by the end of the evening we were best friends.

 

How’s that for some “luck of the Irish?”  Shall I tell you about it? Of course I should.  I had just moved up to New York City in the fall and I had fallen in with this crowd of Hawaiians, which by the way, you should definitely fall in with. Hawaiians were (and probably still are) different in the sense that every single Hawaiian living in NYC was in the arts because why the hell would you leave paradise unless you needed something that paradise didn’t have?

 

At any rate, they were fun and artistic and laid back and very frankly, the least punctual people I had ever met.  If a Hawaiian was within 45 minutes of the time they said they would meet you then you were lucky.  This was before cell phones so you never had a clue how long you’d be waiting.

 

So I met this girl, Chris, through a boy I was massively in love with, Patrick.  They used to know each other in high school.  For some reason, Patrick wasn’t around but Chris and I decided to go out for St. Patrick’s Day.  Growing up it was just a day you would get pinched if you didn’t wear green but in NEW YORK, it was quite a big deal as I was soon to find out.

 

We went out and ended up at this bar called O’Flanagan‘s which was near where I lived on the east side.  This was, as it turned out, a sing-a-long pub although I really couldn’t sing-a-long because all the songs were Irish songs and as I have already explained (see paragraph1) I’m not actually Irish.

 

Nonetheless, after about a billion beers it no longer mattered that you didn’t know the words and one of their best songs, which I remember to this day, was called “Flanagan’s” and basically you just spelled the word O’Flanagan’s” over and over.  Even I can say “F-L-ANA-G-A-NS spells Flanagan’s, Flanagan’s.” Yup, those were the lyrics.  Well, at least the first line.  I’m sure it went farther but I don’t know those words.

 

As you can imagine, we had a helluva time and by the end of the evening we were BFF’s and so I will always remember my first St. Patrick’s Day in New York and on each March 17th, I remember it fondly.

 

Now aren’t you glad I shared that story with you? Go out and have yourself a memorable night and you too will have a great story to share!!

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