Meet me at the information booth

Oh my! I forgot it was St Patrick's Day. I headed in to the City today a few hours early for my plasmapheresis so that I could meet a friend for late breakfast. I almost missed the train because the parking lot at the train station was full - very unusual.... Then I noticed lots of people wearing green. They were headed to the St Patrick's Day Parade in the city. I made it on the train only because it was 2 minutes late. Usually this off peak train is rather quiet and about 1/2 full or less. Today it was packed with noisy revelers wear green shirts, green hats, and even green wigs. I have never heard a train car so loud. Literally, I could feel my ears vibrating. I asked the conductor if any other cars were quieter and he sympathetically said no. The 4 college kids in the seat in front of me had already started drinking Guiness and Bailey's Irish Cream (this was an 8:52am train). Halfway in to the ride, they voices struggled to rise over the din so that everyone could hear about their sexual exploits riddled with curses. I certainly have my moments when I curse, and it wasn't the curses that bothered me as much as the details which should be very private instead of very public.

Finally, the train arrived in Grand Central Terminal. I rushed to meet my friend at the information booth. But the din at Grand Central was even louder than the train (I didn't even know that was possible). With my ears ringing and disorientation setting in as tried to walk through the throngs of revelers, I found a quiet corner and texted my friend. She quickly appeared and we boogied as far away from the revelry as we could.

We had lovely breakfast and plasmapheresis was uneventful and I even had a little nap during my treatment. On the way home, the din at Grand Central was a little quieter but there were still plenty of people wearing green and looking not quite sober. As a tired business man sat next to me on the train, I looked at him and said, "I am so glad you are not a drunken reveler." He smiled and said, "I am glad you are not a drunken reveler, too." We had a nice quiet ride home.

Note to self - stay away from the city on St Patrick's Day (yes, you can call me a party pooper).