St. Patrick’s Season: Chapter One, or 4 Nuns, 3 Fish, and a Cop

9 Mar

Saturday was the official kickoff of St. Patty’s Season. Hoboken, NJ has their own parade, their own city-wide celebration, 10 days early. Like I said, it’s very unclear to my why this takes place, but it makes me incredibly happy.

I have no idea how I managed to wake up at 8am, but proof is in the time-stamp on Saturday’s post. BoyB came over Friday night and instead of eating dinner we drank 2 bottles of wine and ended up watching almost the entire first season of Mad Men. I’m also pretty sure I had my first experience as The Oblivious Friend, but that’s for another post. Anyway, I was exhausted, slightly hungover, and absolutely starving, but I managed to pull myself together and leave the apartment by about 9:30. I was pleasantly surprised to discover the 60+ degree temperature and loved “having” to get an iced coffee.

I made it to the PATH train at 33rd street and was a bit nervous about finding the right track, having been to Hoboken only twice before. My concerns were immediately proven absurd as I became surrounded by a sea of Hoboken-bound clones, covered in green and already wasted. It was 10am. The line for tickets was slow and long and I was really regretting not making a road-soda for the train ride. However, that literally never occurred to me. Did I mention it was 10am? Anyway, I’m standing in line and the best thing happened: Four little Indian nuns walked by. They were so small and in real Sound-of-Music (or maybe just religious?) type habits. They were totally judging everyone and really just looked horrified. All I could was, You poor nuns! So that was the first sign that the day would be a success.

I started to feel a bit self-conscious being there alone (and still sober…damn), but I just kept remembering that everyone else was drunk and they probably couldn’t even see me. So I’m listening to headphones, wishing I was drinking, when suddenly a girl looks over at me and goes, “Hey! Want a shot out of my purse?” Um, what? I look over and crack up because she is feeding her friend gulps of vodka out of a handle out of her purse. Like, it looked like she was pouring her purse into his mouth. It was magical and hilarious. I did not take a shot, though, because at this point only about 5 minutes had elapsed and so it was 10:05am. The girl, Karina, introduced me to her friends Kory and Kris (they told me–“All K’s!”–so I’m not trying to be obnoxious spelling their names that way) and then invited me to their party and got my phone number. Sign number two the day would be a success.

I finally made it to K’s party at 11 and immediately started in on a screwdriver and a green bagel. I got buzzed, it got crowded, someone threw up in K’s closet, etc. That was gross, we got pissed, kicked a bunch of people out, and then it was fun again. More people came in and out, everyone got drunker, and then suddenly it was 3pm and Twin was on her way!!! (I had not seen Twin in over a week because she was on vacation with her dad.)

Eventually, I left K’s and went to a co-worker’s (E) party. Phone reception was terrible (possibly because the entire population of Hoboken plus half of all 20-somethings from Manhattan were drunk dialing) so E and I could not find Twin for about 15 minutes. We found her on a street corner. Entirely. Sober. This was not ok. So we went back to E’s party and Twin pounded beers and at some point Jack Daniel’s was being poured down her throat and then it was being poured down my throat and then we were taking endless pictures of some fish in a tank. The fish appeared to be hilarious until we realized they were actually dying. Then we had to save them. I took pictures the entire time, clearly.

Anyway, when most (3) of the fish were saved and swimming in a beer-less bowl of water, I found myself playing on the winning flip cup team. I have to make this known: I am awesome at flip cup. I can flip the cup over on the first flip almost every time. And I have no problem chugging. So when it became Survivor Flip Cup and the boys on the team voted me off (one of whom had been trying to play the game with wine glasses), I got mad at them. Then a full beer can hit me on the head and I stalked away as they proceeded to lose the next several rounds.

The next thing I realized it was dark and I was hungry so Twin, E, E’s boyfriend D, and I went to get slices of pizza. I smoked a cigarette (ew). Twin drunk-texted some other co-workers and E and I joined in. The four of us then went into D’s room and piled onto his bed and Twin promptly passed out. Suddenly some random dude was laying on top of me and announcing that he was staring at my boobs. All I could do was yell about my dislike for a mutual acquaintance.

And then everyone was gone. I dragged Twin out of the apartment and as soon as we got outside she  immediately grasped onto a tree and began throwing up. (Catch-up is not a game anyone ever wins). As I was being the Good Friend and half clutching the tree, half clutching Twin and also trying to hold her hair back while I could not stand entirely straight, I noticed a cop across the street. Staring at us. Rather, starting at Twin. While she was throwing up into a gutter. I mean, come on, Cop. Really? Go stare at some other drunk asshole. Then, I realize he’s got something in his hand. It’s a phone. He’s taking fucking pictures. Of Twin. Throwing up! Oh COME ONE. I am irate. I want to fight the cop. I become aware that this could get me arrested. Instead, I decide to berate him from across the street, yelling,

“I understand you’re a cop or whatever, but DUDE! That is just INAPPROPRIATE!!!”

He just stood there and laughed. It took all of my drunk super human strength to not go across the street and berate him up close.

Just in time, Twin got better and we walked back to the PATH. She informed me about her friend’s new girlfriend whose name is Rihanna. She informed me the girl is white. And blonde. Then she yelled at a train conductor, I fell down some subway stairs, and we both passed out happily by 11pm.

I’m pretty sure this is a great way to kickoff St. Patty’s Season. Next on the list? Twin’s alumni pub crawl this Saturday. Stay tuned.


4 Responses to “St. Patrick’s Season: Chapter One, or 4 Nuns, 3 Fish, and a Cop”

  1. Dating Without Pants March 10, 2009 at 5:29 pm #

    I definitely missed out on Hoboken. Quaffing the goodies out of a chick’s purse while on the PATH at 10am sounds highly questionable though, haha. Good call on passing there.

  2. o mad fg March 11, 2009 at 5:11 am #

    Are you implying that Rihanna is a bizarre name for a white girl? Never heard Stevie Nicks singing about Rihanna before

  3. TudorCityGirl March 11, 2009 at 12:30 pm #

    Hi! Great writing! Thanks for visiting my blog last week.

    Why was the cop taking pictures of that?! Yelling at him from across the street is what I would have done too. Jerk!!

    Ahh…Hoboken at St. Patrick’s time. That’s the best. Enjoy the festivities for me this year around the city as unfortunately I won’t be in town.

  4. Beth March 11, 2009 at 8:50 pm #

    OK, I really have a million comments on your day because, I mean, wow. WOW.

    But really all I want to say right now is: I am appalled and horrified that you have not been writing a blog for the past million years. You are HI-LAR-IOUS. And I am officially jealous of you and your writing and also that story. Wowwwzzaaa.

    Also, I will probably forget I wrote this and leave a similar comment about how awesome you are in a few days and then another one a few days after that. Sorry.

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