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March 18, 2009 / TildeWill

St. Patrick’s Day Is My Favorite Holiday Ever

And this one was no exception. I don’t know where to start because I’m not yet sure where it’ll end.  I guess I’ll start at noon when I read an email from Magurany. He asked me if I was going to be wearing my blinking bow tie that day. My plans had been to just rock my “Kiss Me I’m Irish” t-shirt and leave the dress clothes for another year. Closer to five, Lara txts me with “Irish Bank” which I take to mean that she’s at the bar called Irish Bank, and I’m to join her there. Six rolls around and I’m ready to go. I Google the Irish Bank as I walk out of the office, just a few blocks up Grant in some alley.

Back story: When I was a junior in high school, a Michelle came from Europe and took my favorite hat and gave me kisses. I got a new favorite hat just a week ago.

I meet and greet Lara, Geoff, Alan, (all from my Jobvite days) and some other folks I know. I get sent for beer and I make the mistake of going inside. What seems like two days later I emerge with a Guinness in each fist. At this point I’m armed to the teeth with green beads. They served me well in Chicago where I picked up a set on the street. So I gave Lara one string for a kiss on the cheek. Then some lady walked over get in a photo of her friends. She snapped one off, then she looked at me with that “would you take a picture for me so I can be in it” face. I obliged, and we talked long enough for me to give her some beads and get another cheek kiss. I turned my attention to the people I knew, but she stuck around to talk to some of them.

She was Irish, like flew in to visit the US kind of Irish. Was staying with a mutual friend and a couple of other people from Ireland. My friends disbanded since some had been drinking for five hours (it was only 7pm) and so I decided to jump ship to make a pit stop at home. I rebased my stomach with some quickly prepared ramen, and thought about Magurany, and how I really ought to break out my bow tie. After throwing on two undershirts, a long sleeved waffle weave shirt and finally the collared shirt, I pulled up my suspenders, clipped my bow tie, and turned on the lights.

I decided to go back to Irish Bank. Maybe my friends would return, maybe I’d meet someone else I knew, or maybe I’d go talk to that Irish girl if she was still there. She was still there, so talk I did.There was more bead commerce between us, but the kiss was much better this time. Afterward, she wasn’t too shy about grabbing my hat when she went to buy us shots, and I wasn’t ready to put up a fight since she’d given me the best snogging of my evening. If i had known her name was Michelle at this point in the evening, I might have been more protective.

I’m slowing down because my stomach is telling me to reduce my rate of intake and considering going home when her friends invite me to follow them to Page, an Irish bar on Divisadero and Haight. It’s a good three uphill miles  from my place and I’m fresh out of cash to get home, so unless I leave before midnight, I’m walking home.

It’s twelve oh five now. I’m walking. Might as well enjoy it.

After spending my last seven dollars on a pint that I really only looked at for the next hour, the snogging resumes. Things are going… “well” for me and Michelle at this point in the evening, and I decide to hit the head one last time. Already most of her mates (that’s Irish speak for friends) have parted, so it’s just Michelle and one other girl. The line at the men’s room is long for some unknown reason, and when I’m done in there she’s gone. I look thr0ugh the whole bar, no Michelle, no mate, no hat. I didn’t get a number or anything. I’m sure at some point I shrugged to no one, and then headed home.

It was one in the morning, I knew I had at least an hour of walking to do. It wasn’t cold outside, but I wouldn’t say it was warm either. I pulled down my sleeves and began my trek. I passed some other people in green, mine was all but gone at this point. My shirt was untucked, covering my suspenders that now hung at my sides. My bow tie was in my pocket, the beads had been “confiscated” because when they were on my belt loops, they apparently were “too gay”, and I was hatless.

I was on Divisadero approaching Fulton wondering if somehow I’d bump into Michelle on my way home, or if I’d ever see my hat again, like if I went to Ireland some day. In my semi-intoxicated and distracted state I noticed a skateboarder ahead. He didn’t seem to know where he was going, so I took a step toward the curb. I noticed he was with a girl, now directly in front of me, with a tree between us. I figured I’d have to walk in the street to get around them and get on my way home. But with perfect timing and grace she stopped walking, moved to the side, and apologized for the skate boarder. I had plenty of time and space when I said “Thank you”. I made no further changes to my course, and continued the remaining uneventful adventure.

By that time I had concocted a plan to post on Craigslist’s “Missed Connections” to see if Michelle might want to meet up, let me say good bye, or at least return my hat. Consequently, I’ve been checking like a crazy person, hoping not to miss my last shot to see her. Tonight, I ran across this posting by some girl: Walking on Fulton Weds. Evening:

Hey, okay so this is pretty lame but worth a try, I was just walking home with my friend, I was walking my bike and my friend had a skateboard. We were on Fulton, I think between Brodrick and Baker.

We stopped and you walked between us because there was not enough room for all of us on the sidewalk in that particular spot, and you very politely said thank you.

You have to excuse us, my friend was a little drunk, and we were acting very childish at the moment, and giggling super loud about stupid things. Just one of those days I guess.

Anyway, I was kind of in awe, you had an amazing smile, and I wasn’t really expecting to run into any extremely good looking people at the moment, so I really had nothing good to say.

Well, I hope you have a good night, and maybe I will run into you on the sidewalk again and not act like a little kid.

She’s talking about me. Off by a block, but me none the less. So I wrote her back with a picture and some details. I’m hoping we’ll do coffee or something soon. Like I said before,  I don’t know how this story ends yet. I’ve got five days to see my hat, and maybe this girl with her bike, who knows!?!?!

Maybe my life really is “an adventure”.



Leave a Comment
  1. mcd1901 / Mar 19 2009 5:52 pm

    I don’t get it… why “I’ve got five days…”? What happens after five days?

  2. TildeWill / Mar 19 2009 5:55 pm

    Hat girl goes back to Ireland this weekend, but bike girl should be around.


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