While working in Midtown on Saint Patrick’s Day is a special kind of hell reserved for office workers who must have done something particularly heinous in their past life, there is but one silver lining about the entire affair–the whole of the Irish population gathering in this nexus of Midtown (5th Avenue) to showcase their frat-like nature. And that is, of course, that it gives employees inhabiting this abyss of nebulous corporate slosh the perfectly viable excuse of drinking on their lunch break.
Your boss, if even remotely of the descent of Irishness (and who isn’t, really?) will feel inclined to be persuaded into getting just “one” drink if invited. And, truly, you’d be a fool not to invite him or her as all bosses get hard over the notion that they’re being “included” as a “peer.” Once you’ve packed yourself into one of the many overflowing Irish bars that compose the geography of Midtown, you’ll have no issue cajoling your boss into a second drink, which provides the unavoidable gateway to a third, fourth and beyond. Before you know it, you’ve got them so liquored up and disoriented that it’s perfectly acceptable to pay the ultimate homage to Irish culture and simply leave without saying goodbye.