While most Americans have no idea who St. Patrick is (and I don’t either), Americans celebrate this Irish holiday by wearing green, drinking lots of green beer, and sending emojicon messages of clovers to everyone.
When I went to Savannah, Georgia last year, I was quite shocked to find out they have one of the biggest St. Patrick’s Day celebration in America.
I am going to celebrate it by recalling all the Irish guy I dated. My 02.02.2015 entry called Love For Football also talks about an Irish guy I dated.
One guy I met worked in a corporate office of a large retail company. He is in his late 30’s, medium build, and slightly taller than me. We met for coffee and had a casual to boring conversations. Then we went out dancing. He had wild moves. When I say wild I meant like a crazy lunatic who was bumping into everyone on the dance floor. I was terrified and he made me spill my drinks few times. I rejected him after that.
Another Irish guy I dated was, Bruce, an older gay who was incredibly good looking. I met Bruce through a friend, Cole, and we started to spend time together at a bar, usually talking about very intimate life experiences. He was very sensitive. He was formerly a model and still maintained an amazing physique and handsomeness while in 40’s. Although he expressed interest in dating, he rejected my offer and I was disappointed.
We still kept our friendship. One day, Bruce was telling me about a guy he was rejected by, throwing a pity party saying he gets rejected all the time. I asked him (referencing to my rejection) – “but I am sure you rejected some guys too.” He said no and I quickly pointed myself to remind him. He laughed embarrassingly.