Adam & Eve! Not Arthur Glynis & Fenton McGillicutty!
Hundreds of thousands of bibacious grown men crossdressed in ungodly Kelly green skirts, waving misprinted rainbow flags, chanting, "We're Here. We’re Irish. Get used to it!"
This parade is unnatural. "They should round all of you up and stick you on an island!" I instinctively shouted at the swarm.
"First of all, we're from an island. Second, we are on one now!," retorted a shirtless man wearing a ridiculous apiarist’s headband with 2 bobbing green fuzzies.
"Well, I'm still not used to it!" I responded.
And then he spit on me.
"You all look like that dude from Lucky Charms, you know! Get your own style—poseurs!" I ranted at other passersby as I wiped the mucus from my face.
"The USA was built on the backs of the Irish, lad. I will now not say 'top o' the mornin' to ya,'" a shirtless woman in green body glitter raved back.
Shucks. Everyone gets a parade except for me... I went to a curb and sat down.
An elderly gentleman who was watching me spiritlessly throw pebbles against the ground, came over and whispered in my ear something that made me fall over.
"It’s Saint Patrick’s Day?" I yelped in disbelief.
Big deal. I’m going back to work.