19 people you will see at the Southie St. Paddy’s Day Parade
Ahhh, the good ol’ Southie St. Patrick’s Day Parade. This annual tradition is its own evil twin: family-friendly neighborhood fun on one side of the Blarney Stone, galactic-level debauchery on the other. Lucky for us, the next day is a city holiday thanks to the timely evacuation of the British on March 17th (how convenient!). Good chance you will run into all of these people while you’re there:
The guy who can’t stop yelling "Erin go Bragh-less"
Come on man, you aren't 12. Wait. Are you? Well then... well played, sir.
People who keep loud-talking that they’re "Irish"
If you have to keep telling us about your distant cousin who lives "just outside of Belfast", then you’re not Irish. You’re just from Natick.
Actual Irish people
Actually, you may not see them, as they're likely sitting in The Behan in JP watching the madness go down from afar with an expression of detached amusement.
The lawn chair-equipped grandmothers
Nanas are serious about the parade. They stake their claims early and freebase Metamucil/whiskey all day. They’ll scold ferociously if you obstruct their views, but if you're nice and clear the way they might give you a nickel to cover the cost of ice cream in 1926.
Off-duty cops and fireman
Boston law enforcement and their blaze-battling bros are all Irish (or honorary Irish), and they have claimed this parade and holiday as their own. It’s like one massive episode of Rescue Me starring 5,471 Dennis Learys.
Undercover ON-DUTY cops
His shirt says "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling, They're Usually Up To Something" for a reason. Pro tip: do NOT try and sell him opium.
The guy who wants every girl to kiss him because he’s Irish
Is actually just a personal trainer from the Boston Sports Club in Lynnfield.
Dudes in kilts
At this point, what kilt joke has not been said to someone wearing a kilt? Well, we'll tell you: Knock knock. Who’s there? Kilt? Kilt who? You should be kilt for wearing that. Hmmm. Maybe don't say that one.
These are meatheads-in-training, traveling in packs and acting like they want to get in a fight while secretly kind of hoping they don't get in a fight, though they definitely will, at some point, get in a fight.
Same as above, but legally allowed in bars to drink. So that's great.
Same again, but stuck in time. Acid wash jeans: check. "Going out" Timberlands: check. Don Sweeney Bruins jersey: check. They roll out of bed every morning expecting to be disrespected (loosely defined), so tread lightly when they inevitably ask you "where the $#%* you from?".
The shrieking party girl brigade
What has a muffin top, is dressed in gaudy bedazzled St. Patrick’s Day gear, and howls like a banshee? Answer: the classy lady-friend spilling her drink on your jacket as she tries to get an unsolicited selfie with the guy in the kilt. Will later be sobbing uncontrollably for reasons that were never entirely clear, especially to her.
The dawn patrol
They were determined to get started by 7am. They did not think they'd be taking a sidewalk nap by 9am. It's a marathon, not a sprint...
Dad will have some awkward moments trying to explain today's events to little Timmy during the drive back to Needham.
The smug guy headed to a roof deck party
That self-satisfied look lets you know he'll soon be enjoying the festivities while thoroughly removed from the unwashed masses. Get him, junior townies, he's from Acton!
Can’t we have any fun in the Universe without Vader’s goons showing up? "The ability to destroy your liver is insignificant next to the power of the Force."
"I’ll take a Power Ranger balloon, the light-up sparkle glitter wand, and the zany shamrock glasses. I will lose all of them in the next 10 minutes. Actually, can you just set this $20 on fire for me?"
The terminally in-the-way
This group is rolling deep and oblivious to their clogging of the one slowly moving artery of hope between you and the Broadway T station. Give them a pointed stare as you push past.
The local politicians
Even if Stephen Lynch keeps out of this one, there will inevitably be others out on the street shakin’ hands and kissin’ babies. Now’s your chance to bend their ears about important matters like Boston's unenlightened happy hour policy. And maybe Ukraine or something.