I wish I thought of this sooner, I could have gotten paid for it!  Or at least, paid in readership, as these things often are.Tardi-tardi-tar!  It’s Saint Paddies’ day in New York!  The largest confluence of voluntary ethnic stereotyping since Columbus Day! I.  Fecking. Hate this day. It’s just like New Year’s: suddenly, the world has converged on your home and is using it to throw a KEGGER.

I don’t know about y’all, but I can celebrate my genetic alcoholism any ol’ day of the week.  Sure, I’m “proud” of my 1/4 Irishness, but prefer to think of it as a deep personal pride I maintain by reading Beckett, listening to Primordial and never, ever talking about my feelings. So while I spend the celebration of one of Christianity’s few bloodless conversions doing that, here are some things you can do that won’t get you ambushed by pasty meatheads from Long Island on a break from humanity in the name of partial heritage.

Activity 1: Watch the dignified old Irish dudes in the parade. Wear rainbows, in solidarity. Go home early, make some colcannon and raise a glass or Murphy’s while watching Once. Or that movie with the adorable kids and Djaimon Honsu.  Screw all’a’y’all. I love that movie.

Activity 2: Go to work (if that’s your thing), and afterward treat yourself at one of these fine establishments likely to be ignored by the faux-Eire baffoonery.

Ethiopian Food followed by German Beer.
Currywurst followed by French Wine.
Australian hamburgers followed by Zyweic
Soul Food and Jazz
Bahn Mi and plum brandy.

This year, I personally have a party to go to.  A lovely couple, of German and French origin, are moving to Africa, and throwing themselves a farewell.  Tardi-tardi-tor to you all.