A Letter to St. Patty's Day

Dear St. Patty's Day,

Why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you? I mean, I'm Catholic. I totally understand the religious reasons behind this Catholic Feast Day. I get it. And yet, you punish me every year. Why won't you let me partake in the green beer and other festivities? Do you think I'm over-reacting? Well, allow me to walk you down memory lane.

• St. Patrick's Day - 2004 - Bennigan's in Plano, TX
  Two of my girlfriends and I went to the cliche Irish pub/restaurant and decided it would be corny but fun. We got to the door and they charged us 5 bucks each. That's right, 5 dollars to get into a restaurant where I would eventually pay to eat. WTF? Then, as if that wasn't insulting enough, we got a "special" menu made just for that night with a bunch of gross shit on it. We ended up leaving hungry after dropping 20 bucks total. Bummer.
• St. Patrick's Day - 2005 - The Down Under Pub in Frisco, TX
  Ok, I know you're judging me now. You're probably wondering why I went to an Australian place on the holy grail of Irish holidays. But it was the only place that didn't have lines wrapped around it to get in. Plus, there were a few hot guys in there. BUT, we never got a good table. We ended up standing by the bar all night right under a cold air vent and they didn't have green beer. Then, to our surprise, the place closed at midnight. I almost barfed up my brown beer when last call was made at 11:40. Double bummer!
• St. Patrick's Day - 2006 - Sherlocks in Addison, TX
  I picked up my friend, G, and we grabbed some sushi. Then we drove to Sherlocks and saw a loooong line. There were so many cars that we actually parked half a mile from the entrance. (I measured it!) Then as we were patiently waiting in the long line, a loud crack of thunder shook us and it started pouring. We decided to abort Mission St. Patty and head for the car. But we had half a mile to run in the pouring down rain. Everything on me was soaked through when I got into my car. It was so gross. As I type this, I'm home at 10:30 p.m. on St. Patty's Day in my pajamas with rain hair. Triple bummer!

After the last 2 years, you think I would have learned my lesson. But no. Obviously St. Patrick's Day is out to get me. So, third time was the charm. You win St. Patty's Day. I concede. I regreat not ever trying green beer, but the war is over and you are victorious. I will never try to partake in your spirited festivities again. It was nice knowing you.

Bye,
Clara
p.s. If you think I'm wearing green on March 17 next year, you're out of your mind. And if you try to pinch me, I'll give you a titty twister.