St Paddy is the devil

Well as everyone knows it was st Patrick's day on Tuesday. And its was a pretty big deal here because there are so many Irish people in the city. Mine was pretty good, I worked all day- only one minor blip. A lady said I was lucky I could wear green all day I responded with something clever she responded with my boyfriend died on St Patrick's day three years ago I countered with silence then and I'm not joking "hows the healing processes coming along". WHAT?!!? who are you Dr. Phil Barista. In fact I paniced because my first reaction was to respond wow my sister got engaged three years ago on st Patrick's day, quickly I knew this was no good so obviously the next best thing is to big a personal reflection process with a stranger. I think by this point I was actually sweating because I could not believe the verbal spew I was unleashing upon this women. To be honest I went into a bit of a catatonic state and can't remember some of the jewels I dealt but I do recall a "mourning processes are different for everyone" and "these thing are sometimes blessings" OH HOLY SHIT- Am I Buddha? Oprah? Maury?

Clearly this day could only get better. Britt and I went to the local Irish establishment. We arrived around eight and the line was ridiculously huge. Luckily we have discovered that if you slip into the outside smoking ropes (which is not even roped off) you can just walk right back in like you've just come outside. Apparently the bouncers are morons and this has worked for us several times with no consequence. Anyways it was absolute mayhem. Green and Shamrocks and guys with cat whiskers drawn of there faces in permanent marker everywhere (I later was approached by a girl with no top on asking me if I wanted said whisker on my face and it all came together). I saw full on fist fight end in hugging, grown men crying, heard more people join in singing the lyrics to U2 songs then I ever thought possible without attending a concert, and of course (cause this is Edinburgh) numerous public projectile vomits. One of my favorite things about the night would have to be that the aforementioned pub we were at is called Biddy mulligans. Now since its a pub it doesn't usually have hand stamps or anything but since it was chaos they needed to mark people who were in. So they marked everyone's hand with a jiffy marker in the pubs initials. So there were about 500 people walking the streets with a giant black BM on there hand. Keep it classy Scotland.

I ended up coming home with two shirts, two hats, a scarf, four pins and a laughing leprechaun dolls, all in various shades of green or displaying prominent shamrocks.