St. Patty's or St. Paddy's
In honor of St. Patrick's day I give to you a story involving an Irish American--Tommy.
Several times I met a boy named Tommy at an Irish bar on E. 50th street. Each time it was the same Tommy. He was 20 something, fit, and had a small tattoo. Yum. One evening we got to talking about guitar playing, then we got to drinking and eventually we got to making out in the bar. Oh yeah. So he invited me back to his place to 'play guitar.' I thought that was an original take on the "You wanna come over and see my glow in the dark stars" line. It doesn't take much to impress me. You can imagine my astonishment when he actually pulled out his guitar upon our arrival. No this isn't a euphemism. He took his guitar and played a couple of Guster songs. (I don't judge boys by their pop culture tastes. OK, I don't judge cute boys by their pop culture tastes.) He finishes up the last song of his set, and then begins kissing me. "Uhhh. HELLO." It's my turn to play guitar. I mean I was all prepared to make out with him sans the guitar, but he brought out the guitar, so I want to play. Even though I had yet to perform stand-up I still was self involved and spot light hungry. I wanted to scream, "Hand over that guitar buddy!" His invitation stated we'd both play music. I remained silent and kissing him. My silence prompted him to ask if I was gay. No, I was clearly not happy. I wanted to play guitar.
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Oh and here's a little joke I wrote where I mention the word Irish. They've got some crazy drinks out there. I heard this girl order "a big black dildo." "What's that, " I asked. She's like, "It's five shots of Jaeger." Wow. That's alot to put in your mouth....Oh.... I can't handle that. I needed something smaller so I ordered the "Irish dildo." It's just two fingers of Jameson. Sometimes all a girl needs is two fingers. Hello. Rimshot.
Several times I met a boy named Tommy at an Irish bar on E. 50th street. Each time it was the same Tommy. He was 20 something, fit, and had a small tattoo. Yum. One evening we got to talking about guitar playing, then we got to drinking and eventually we got to making out in the bar. Oh yeah. So he invited me back to his place to 'play guitar.' I thought that was an original take on the "You wanna come over and see my glow in the dark stars" line. It doesn't take much to impress me. You can imagine my astonishment when he actually pulled out his guitar upon our arrival. No this isn't a euphemism. He took his guitar and played a couple of Guster songs. (I don't judge boys by their pop culture tastes. OK, I don't judge cute boys by their pop culture tastes.) He finishes up the last song of his set, and then begins kissing me. "Uhhh. HELLO." It's my turn to play guitar. I mean I was all prepared to make out with him sans the guitar, but he brought out the guitar, so I want to play. Even though I had yet to perform stand-up I still was self involved and spot light hungry. I wanted to scream, "Hand over that guitar buddy!" His invitation stated we'd both play music. I remained silent and kissing him. My silence prompted him to ask if I was gay. No, I was clearly not happy. I wanted to play guitar.
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Oh and here's a little joke I wrote where I mention the word Irish. They've got some crazy drinks out there. I heard this girl order "a big black dildo." "What's that, " I asked. She's like, "It's five shots of Jaeger." Wow. That's alot to put in your mouth....Oh.... I can't handle that. I needed something smaller so I ordered the "Irish dildo." It's just two fingers of Jameson. Sometimes all a girl needs is two fingers. Hello. Rimshot.
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