Manhattan the day before St. Patrick’s Day is a giant guest bathroom, perfunctorily tidied up and waiting for the world to hang over the bowl. Any bar within a square half-mile of the parade route quadruples its prudent reserve of beer, w
hiskey and whatever fad concoction the kids are throwing up these days. Walk inside and quaff the giddy scent of anticipation. Tomorrow’s forecast, same as last year: A tsunami of cash amidst a light undertow of broken glass and vomit. - Bill Scheft "Time Won't Let ME"
1 comment:
I got so distracted my the bottle of Jame-o!!!
I went to the Parade in NYC once!
I rode the train (they shcedule more for that day) and waded through vomit on the way home!
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