In Chicago, Pressure To Have Fun Is At An All Time High During St Patricks Day
I don’t know what St. Pat’s is like in other cities, but here in Chicago it’s a big fucking deal. The river gets dyed green and the entire city loses it’s fucking mind. If you’re a resident of Chicago, you prepare your apartment for a weekend of chaos. People from out of town will be blowing your phone up the week prior, asking what your plans are for that Saturday and if you have a spare couch that they can sleep on.
Your friends that also live in Chicago will be asking what your plans are. Maybe you’ve bought a ticket to one of the million bar crawls taking place in River North, Wrigleyville, or Old Town. Perhaps you’re just party hopping.
Whatever the case may be, you better have a plan set up before you step out of your door on Saturday morning or you’re going to wind up wandering aimlessly with nine or ten of your close friends trying to figure something out on the fly. If you can wedge your way into one of the countless irish bars in Chicago you may want to stay there for the duration of the day because the lines are impossible. It’s a young man’s holiday. It’s a day for people with more patience than I’ve got.
My sour attitude towards St. Pat’s is most definitely because I’m getting older. But it’s also become overrated in my honest opinion. There are lines at every bar in the loop. People are falling over themselves and vomiting on sidewalks. Add in the fact that Chicago has made this holiday into something bigger than it really is and you get a shitstorm.
It’s New Years Eve but instead of everyone wearing nice clothes we’re all wearing kelly green. I love forest green. Michigan State wears a dark green that looks fantastic on me. But kelly green? That color doesn’t look good on anyone. It’s abrasive and matches nothing.
And let’s talk about visitors for a moment. Anyone within driving distance of Chicago knows someone that lives in the city and those people come in droves for this event. I love having visitors but not during St. Pats. My anxiety is at a fever pitch right now just thinking about Saturday, where I’m going to have four or five tag a longs with me at all times, asking me where we’re headed to next and what the plan is for the rest of the day. The truth of the matter is that St. Patrick’s Day - if you’re over 25 - is a day where you may be better off staying in your living room and watching college basketball with a pizza and a case of Bud Light.
Stepping out in public is like walking into a scene from “Dawn of the Dead.” People are falling all over themselves and the only thing you’re going to get from choosing to go out is a spot in a very long line. And for what? So you can see the Chicago River dyed green? Who gives a shit? I hate to be downer because I know people live for this holiday but I’m over it. I’m not 23 anymore. I have no patience for any of it.