Riding on the bus, sitting next to bums (part 1)

Just for the record, I have always viewed myself as having only 2 nationalities: Italian and German. Why only these 2? Well, German because who the hell is German? And Italian because I couldnt hide my Italian hair from Helen Keller. Also, despite the fact that I am mostly Irish, I cannot stand the ridiculous display of Irish-ness from all of civilization during the 2 weeks surrounding St. Patrick's Day. I think this has something to do with the fact that I cannot stand fitting into a crowd, and nothing makes me more uncomfortable than looking out at a sea of faces each decked out in their Sunday greenery, wearing shot glasses or kilts. I think 100% of true Irish citizan's would beat up all stupid Irish loving American's during March. And they would probably use clubs and shot guns made out of precious potatoes. Next year I may spend March inviting people from Ireland to my house and arranging my own drunk bus to Delco bars with said true Irish folk. I would encourage them to outdrink us, fight us and then end the night suing us for stealing their identity. That being said....Who can pass up an invitation to drink at different Delaware County bar by way of free bus surrounded by hood rats for upwards of 13 hours? Certainly not I.

"National" pride aside, each year, the weekends before and after St Patrick's day signals the period of time known as weekend long drink fest. To facilitate this drinking in a safe and timely manner, local bar arrange for school buses to make loops down Macdade Blvd picking up and dropping off at various bars along the way. This year would be my first official drunk bus endeavour. When Kate told me of her intention of returning home for said bus, I was happy to follow suit and accompany her on this Irish explosion.

So, this past Saturday began with me returning from work at 9am....slightly hostile from being forced to park 8 miles away from my own house and then walk in the pouring rain to my front door. I was greeted by Kate, who was already awake, and Sas who was only slightly awake. Counting the few hours of sleep I would be allowed until my 1pm deadline, I grabbed a nutritious breakfast chocolate covered marshmallow egg and headed for my room. Thankfully, I fell asleep almost immediately and therefore was able to get a healthy 3 1/2 hours sleep before waking up to drink. Although initially cranky, I woke up and dressed in quick order...and joined the pregame party already in progress in my livingroom. Our small beginning group consisted of both of my sisters and our joint friend/ stand in extra sister steph...aka buttons! After a few mood beers, we all piled in my car and were chauffeured to our first destination by my mother Sas. Our first destination was a bar called RP McMurphy's....yup...named after Jack Nicholson's character from One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest...although not a bar I frequent regularly, who am I to refuse to drink in a bar named after a literary character who gets smothered to death by the largest native american who ever existed? So...

After jumping out of my car (this would be the last time I would know what warm and dry felt like for the remainder of the evening) and sprinting into the bar..I found myself in heaven. This bar was packed full of equal parts 21 year old sluts and middle age desperate women....joined together by their matching Irish paraphernalia. Wayyyyy tooo many people for me to mock. We make our way in and to the bar to order our first purchased drinks of the evening. No sooner had I reached the bar than I was being hit on by a cross-eyed thug looking kid who was drooling into his malibu bay breeze. Awesome. I've already had the best night of my life. So I order my drinks, distibute them to our group and snatch back my cowboy hat (oh, did i forget to mention that i was wearing a cowboy hat...not an Irish cowboy hat or a green cowboy hat....just a regular cowboy hat) from the girly drink loving thug. As is the way I ruin most drinking nights of my life, I proceed to gulp down my beer in 3 swallows and move onto my next beverage. Within the span of 30 minutes, we had made our way around the bar, greeted those we knew, I ordered another beer, I stole Button's beer,I yelled at Laura's ex Matt, gave him Kate's half drank beer, made up with him and made my way to the dancefloor.

Due to the early hour (It was around 4pm) most of the dancefloor was filled with elderly women doing their best mom-dance. The expecially "spicy" elders even broke their hips jumping onto the stage to dance sexilly all the while keeping that dead behind the eyes look on their faces. We danced for a bit, mostly to Lady Gaga because she is the Schramm girl master of ceremony when it comes to ridiculous dancing,thanks to Laura. After exhausting the novelty that was RP's, we decided to catch a bus to our next destination...hence is the glory of drunk buses in general. I am told that they are like magic....there when you need them to bring you to a new destination. This, however, was not our experience. At all.

Group hostility was immediately felt when Laura informed us that she had no intention of leaving RP's due in equal parts to her social popularity and the presence of her latest man crush. So Kate, buttons and myself carried ourselves outside to find a bus. Since one was not immediately found and we found ourselves in the middle of the hurricane, we decided to seek refuge in the neighboring bar. Have you ever been driving home from work minding your own business when a homeless person falls from the sky and lands directly on your windshield? Well, neither have I, but I have experience that same level of shock upon entering aforementioned bar. Immediately I sobered up...mosly because the ENTIRE BAR smelled like the inside of a porta-potty. The elders here made the elders in RP's look like French nobility. My only goal was to leave this place as quickly as possible...Moments after arrival, Kate and I proceded to frantically examinal all ports of exit for signs of our liberation bus. Obviously God hates us, because we were still unable to locate one. Therefore, we made the decision to return to RP's. Sprinting again across the parkinglot in a hurricane served only to ensure my physical discomfort...as the rain was winning this symbolic staring contest. Regardless, we again walked into the bar in the hopes of bidding our time until our allusive bus saved us.
After ordering shots and socializing again, I noticed that a large group of people began piling in the front door...leading me to believe that our bus was finally here! I ran outside and screamed for joy because there WAS a bus!! Although I wanted to sprint towards it, I realized that Kate and Buttons were still inside. Thinking nothing of it, I attempted to cut the line to relay my fantastic findings to the rest of my crew. However, despite the fact that the bouncer watched me leave the bar moments before, he made me get back in line and show him my ID. Now, im usually all for the prevention of minors drinking in bars, but at this moment I wanted to punch this man in the face. By the time I was finally declared over-age and reached my group, the bus had left. This was the exact moment that I realized I was trapped in hell. So..like rational people, we decided to walk to our next bar destination. IN THE POURING RAIN. Oh, did I say pouring rain? Cause i meant unnecessary amount of ridiculous rain. The kinda rain that makes you think God is showing off. In seconds we were soaked but undeterred. I mean, it could be worse, right? It could be raining fire or bullets or herpes. Then, it got worse. We reached the sidewalk with me taking the lead. Immediately, a large stupid truck sped past us..the driver carelessly driving through a river that developed in the street. A tsunami of water came at us like a wall. Thankfully, as the leader of the group, I was able to absorb the majority of the splash. I literally looked like I just jumped in a pool....and with that, I redirected us and ran into the closest building...which happened to be a pizza shop. By now, Kate was furious at our situation, our current location, her general dampness and her inability to enjoy carbs. Buttons and I happily ate the pizza I demanded to buy to prevent me from drowning myself in my new arch nemesis...that mother F'ing puddle. After a half hour, we were able to get ahold of Sas, who was preparing herself in hopes of meeting us out later. For some reason, asking her to rescue us from our purgatory infuriated her...but thankfully she begrudgingly set out to collect us...