I got to the airport quite early and grabbed some lunch and beers in the Seattle Taproom. As I ordered my first beer at 11:00, the bartender asked "Would you like a shot with that for $3?" I guess the drinking before noon rule doesn't really apply in an airport.
When I arrived in Chicago, Ben and I met up with his coworkers at the local Irish pub, Kerry Piper. The men of the group were apparently trying to outdo each other on how many rounds of shots they could buy, so it turned out to be quite a short night!
The next morning was the infamous Bags and Booze Tournament thrown by Ben's good friends, the Griffins (a clan of good ol' Chicago Irishfolk.... nuf said). For those of you who aren't familiar, bags is basically the equivalent of horseshoes, but with a slanted box on each end with a hole near the top that you throw bean bags in. This is generally what it looks like:
I thought someone was playing a joke on me when every person I was introduced to had a ridiculously Irish name like Gallagher, Griffin, Collins and McGinnis (though I guess Redmond fit right in!). The beer started flowing early as we warmed up our throwing arms. Then, of course, the shirts started coming off--
Ben and his brother--you wouldn't even guess they're related.
I did alright in the tournament but was knocked out in one of the last rounds by a Bullet-Tooth Tony look alike and a 12 year-old girl (who actually won last year). So we started playing poker instead in the fading light. After paying out the drunks who got belligerent through the course of the game, Ben and I split the winnings (which I count as my first ever win in poker!). I had never seen such a party where certain parents get blasted while their kids run around playing. Maybe it's a Chicago thing?
As the old folks passed out and/or took the kids home, the last stragglers collected in the garage to turn up the tunes, dance along, and generally be drunken idiots.
No comments:
Post a Comment