“I swallowed the leprechaun! I killed him!”

Yesterday was St. Patrick's Day in Chicago... and I was sick. Drunk people screaming for 20 hours, while sick, not entertaining. I live on a block with a dozen Irish pubs and sports bars, you can draw your own conclusions.

This city loves St. Patty's Day. It's like Christmas, New Years, and Fourth of July all rolled into one. They dye the river green, roll in the green kegs of beer, and dress from head to toe in every shade of tacky green fabric imaginable. I love this holiday, I have fond college memories of green mugs of beer and early morning shenanigans. However, I have seen a new side of this holiday as a Chicago citizen.

The morning began early. Day 4 of being sick is not fun, but when you are awakening to violent shrills from drunken men fourteen floors below its a little disturbing. As noted above, I live at an absurd street corner of tacky Irish pubs and sports bars. Its where the graduated fraternity men and retired athletes retreat to. I use to think this was the place to live. It seemed so glamorous to live within walking distance to these bars. I was mistaken. They are overpriced and overrated. Not to mention, I thought when I graduated Beer Pong and Stripper Poles would have been a thing of the past. Call me naïve, but when I imagined my grown up life I expected chic martini lounges, not the ESPN fanatic sports bars.

These bars located steps away from my apartment have 5AM closings. As a hard working city girl, this isn’t ideal. Every Friday and Saturday I fall asleep to the soundtrack of crying girls, police sirens and fighting men. I have grown accustom to sleeping through this noise, but St. Patty’s Day was completely out of control. It was raining, every bar had a line out front, and people had been drinking for hours. It was basically an all day riot. If you were partaking in this holiday, it may have been a great time, but I was not. I stopped counting at 26 different police sirens, 14 screaming men, and 9 cat fights. My favorite quote of the day was a man screaming “I swallowed the leprechaun! I killed him!” I can only imagine how the retired man living on the floor above me feels about this crazy chaos every year.

As a sober bystander, this was ridiculous. No wonder everyone in Chicago celebrates St. Patty’s Day, to be sober is too irritating. I plan to take my Vitamin C next year so I don’t have to suffer through another Saturday St. Patty’s Day next year stuck in my apartment listening to the chaos below.