The Luck of the Irish

Just to clarify, the post I have about Stirling, Scotland on March 9th is actually a personal entry from a written journal of mine that I kept over the holidays while I was in the United Kingdom. I am currently applying for an internship with STA Travel and needed to show my mean blogging skills. It is definitely one of my favorites so I wanted to include it.

Pretty sure he was running down East Carson St. 

Okay, moving on. This past weekend was like any other weekend, except for the fact that almost every young person in the city of Pittsburgh converged upon a single street for St. Patrick's Day festivities. By 2pm, East Carson street took on the literal meaning of local watering hole. The place was an absolute zoo.

For future reference, if you don't like obscene amounts of green and large crowds, avoid spending the day there at all costs. I arrived later at night around 8pm, so I was in the midst of the carnage. You know it is a crazy day when the amount of lone wanderers far exceeds the usual amount you see stumbling around on a typical Saturday night.

After a couple of my friends and I squeezed through the herd at one bar, we found a table. Don't ask me how, it just happened. After a few Alabama Slammers and a pint of green beer, we were as giddy as the Lucky Charms leprechaun. After dancing with some ladies and starting a limbo, we descended into the streets to find our way back home.

We threw down the full house with this move; taking a public bus back home. Now before you recount your horror stories from public buses, realize every now and then it can be great. We caught it around 2am and had the thing to ourselves. No parking fees, no crazy parking scenarios; Life doesn't get much better than that. I guess you can call it the luck of the Irish.