While walking on a quiet E 20th St, a lone drunk St. Patrick's Day reveler stumbled up beside me requesting directions to the nearest Party City. I told her what she will forget and have to ask again without even realizing where she is to begin with.
Next she tried to impart her own wisdom on me:
'Did you know cabs aren't picking up Catholics?'
'I'm sorry?' her drunken slur was difficult to decipher.
'Cabbies are refusing to pick up Catholics,' she rephrased louder as if she were talking to an elderly person or one who doesn't speak English.
'Good to know,' I nodded most sincerely.
'And I'm not even Catholic,' she continued, outraged, 'I guess they just assume. Irish, you know.' She said this proudly pulling at her generic St. Paddy's green t-shirt as she walked away.
Might notta been Catholic, but definitely Irish; Irish people love to be totally wrong about things and then get drunkenly indignant over them.
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