Next, he needed an escort. These lovely lassies would do...
Well, that was awkward, so we shared a shot, just to feel like an Irishman. Unfortunately, the shot isn't Irish Whiskey either.
We had to get out of there to find green beer! Scotty wasn't in the St. Pat's party frame o' mind yet.
Next pub...no green beer, so he settled for wine.
But wait, sitting right next to us, a bonifide Irishwoman and her man. We had to raise our glasses to that, of course.
I take a quick look see down the bar, and I see people drinking Guiness. That's a good start.
Better clammour down the bar and recover a pint for Patty's name sake.
And while Scotty's at the end of the bar, A green light calls...the ATM machine. Yes, St. Patrick's Day is getting pricey too, and a Scot is a tight-wad!
But this sharin o' shamrocks is beginning to grow on little Scotty. Chis, pours him the whiskey...
Now THAT's more like it! The escorts are startin to look pretty good now. We are sure and begorah having a bonny time!
For the love of St. Peter, Paul and Mary...bein an Irishman, when you're a Scot, takes it's toll. Scotty conceded the holiday was well worth the hangover.
Lesson learned: either nationality could win the drink-anyone-under-the-table competition...with a strong possibility of Brazillians following neck in neck. (Hey, maybe that's why south-of-the-border beer was on special?)
Scotty strongly recommends we start a new national holiday...St.McDuff's. We all wear plaid, dance to bagpipes,eat shortbread, hit up the Irish for some money, and head out to the pubs in search of...