Minty goodness

I'm on the 13th floor in midtown and through my closed window I can hear the green-clad throngs screaming for the St. Patrick's Day parade. Living on the Upper East Side, getting home from work on a weeknight St. Patrick's Day is always a treat, with all of the pubs full of backwards ballcap douchebags spilling out into the street, drunk like it's midnight at 6:30, and packs of out-of-town firemen feeling up drunk bridge and tunnel girls...good times. My wise friend Creamy Stevens calls it amateur night, and second only to New Year's Eve, it's actually the worst night to go out! But there was always one good thing about it...