Working in Midtown When It’s St. Patrick’s Day

How does one describe working in Midtown when it’s St. Patrick’s Day? Well, let me try to explain. It’s a lot like being the designated driver for an entire row of fraternity houses. You have to show incredible and unprecedented restraint even though you want to kill everyone and can’t even get drunk to distract yourself from this thought.

How is it that every other person in Manhattan seems to be corralled within the too small radius of Midtown to “celebrate” this special day of Irish heritage? Is there no other sector in town that embraces stupidity and debauchery with such open arms? Apparently not. It’s hard to know why all these people aren’t working or how there could possibly be so many tourists conspiring to join as one massive collective irritating force against the office worker in the Times Square/Midtown sinkhole of sin. But there they all are, bar crawling as you try to get into your office without your Irish coffee being detected by your boss.