>In honor of St. Patrick’s Day, the holiday dedicated to drinking green beer, I give you this tale:
A few years ago, in order to save some money, my office had a luncheon for our Christmas party. Significant others were not invited as the function took place during the workday. We went to a Greek restaurant here in the city. The food was great and of course everyone had a few glasses of wine. My boss, John, decided to supplement his meal with some Ouzo. He was reeling a bit on the sidewalk (as most of us were) when we filed out of the restaurant.
The day was young (3:00 p.m.) and no one wanted to go home yet. So we took a couple of cabs to a bar in North Beach. It was an unusually warm December day and some of the guys wanted to smoke a cigar or two, so we decided to sit out on the patio. At the odd hour, there were only a few patrons in the establishment. The guys were puffing away on some stinky brown thing, while I sipped my Coors Light trying to figure out how to slip out quietly. Suddenly, I hear this odd gagging sound. I look over and see John puking into the planter boxes guarding the patio from the sidewalk. The shrubs were never the same and needless to say we were kicked out of the bar.