Erin Go Braugh

It was Lexie’s genius idea. And I’m using the word “genius” loosely, let me tell you.

It was St. Patrick’s Day and we were decked out. That afternoon’s trip to Michaels for accouterments yielded glitter shamrock stickers, lots of ribbon in various shades of green, and several tubes of green glitter glue. By the time we were done getting ready, we looked like the Irish glitter fairy threw up all over us.

We headed to the bar, paid our entry fee and waited for the band to start. Lexie went to the bar to get us drinks. She stood there for a bit talking to a group of guys. She pointed at our table and kept on talking. Par for the course when you’re out with Lexie. Pretty soon, guys were coming up to me and handing me beers. Random strangers were buying me drinks, handing them to me and then walking away. It was strange.

After about two hours of said behavior, in my drunken stupor, I finally asked why they were buying me yummy beer.

“Well we heard tonight you’re ‘Erin Go Braugh-less.’”


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