It’s Saint Patrick’s Day, and soon the streets will be littered with plastic green hats filled with last night’s vomit. As a person with (light) Irish heritage, I wanted to take this opportunity to address some terms that maybe should be put under a magnifying glass.
The “Irish Goodbye”
Definition: when you leave a party without saying good-bye to anyone. Have I done this? Yes. Many times. Because who wants to go through 20 minutes of mindless chitchat in front of a door? I don’t want to; you don’t want to; nobody wants to. Just leave out of the garage or bathroom window whenever the fuck you want.
The “Irish Flu”
Definition: a hangover. You know who is also prone to hangovers? Everyone. No culture is impervious to them (well, maybe the Welsh), yet this term implies that Irish people are never sick and that when they are, it’s because they stayed up all night getting blackout drunk and dancing on tables. Last time I called in and faked an illness to get out of work, it was because I had a letter that I wanted to mail, and I just didn’t feel like going to work that day. (OK, maybe I was also hungover.)
“Irish Twins”
Definition: having kids as soon as possible between pregnancies. As if science had proven that the Irish are some of the most fertile people on the planet and poets have no time for condoms. Go to any small town where people have nothing better to do than have kids, and you’ll find there is a wide spectrum of individuals—Irish and otherwise—who do this.
“The Irish Car Bomb”
Definition: a shot of whiskey and cream dropped into a pint of Guinness and drunk as quickly as possible before the cream curdles. Yes, these are delicious, but if you went to Belfast, Ireland, and ordered one of these, it would be the same as ordering a “9/11” (Jack Daniels, Southern Comfort and Jäegermeister) in New York City.
“Irish Fleas”
Definition: pubic lice. That’s what my pharmacist called it when I had to get that special shampoo after a night at “Death Guild.”
“Irish Cookies”
Definition: vomit on the sidewalk, especially in front of an Irish bar. This one is really misleading because Irish cookies are delicious. Go to John Campbell’s Irish Bakery on Geary and see for yourself. Also, owner John Campbell looks just like Mickey Rourke from The Wrestler (in a good way).
