i survived...

With a name like Shannon it's almost a given that I should celebrate St. Patrick's Day in true Irish style, however I've never been one for all the hoopla. Maybe it's because I'm part Italian AND Irish and the Italian blood runs closer to the surface. As in I can trace that side of my family easier because they came to the United States in the early 1900's, whereas the Irish side has been here since the beginning of time and is quite literally a mutt at this point. Essentially I'm Irish in name more than blood.

This past Friday night I was a busy little worker bee at Tom Bergin's. I showed up at 6:30pm and after settling into all the confusion finally made my way to the back entrance where I was slated to assist Big D in the seating of customers for the restaurant. All was going relatively well until Big D handed me the clipboard and said "You take over, I'm needed up front." That of course was primetime for hungry revelers to decide they wanted to make dinner reservations and for the following hour and a half I had my hands full. Why is it that people think on St. Pat's Day, in an Irish pub, things will happen in a normal time frame?

After the insanity had died down in the restaurant, I went inside and alternately manned the managers nook with Corine and chatted up some boys from NY.

Overall it wasn't as bad as I had expected. Granted I didn't try to go anywhere near the bar and I was stationed outside for a good 3 hours so maybe my assessment of the madness is a bit skewed. Whatever the case, I had a great time and hope to be asked back again next year where I will emphatically say "yes!"

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