First off: Christians, don't judge me. I still love Jesus. Mom, if you are reading this, no need to worry.
Secondly: I went to a pub. In Dublin. (foolish as it may, I went alone.) You see, there was an Irish man singing his heart out and Irish folk dancing and laughing... I had to go in. So I did and I sat myself at the bar (and yea, ordered a drink).
The atmosphere was really cool, or as they say here in Ireland, CRAIC! And it wasn't long before a buzzed Irishman came to talk to me... he asked me questions, in fact, he asked me my name 3 times and if I had a boyfriend 5 times. Hahaha! John, which was his name, brought a drink over for me. For fear of roofies, I refrained from drinking it. He continued to hit on me and invited me to the next bar, I kindly declined. He asked me for a kiss on the cheek, I kindly declined. I am very sorry John for rejecting you. As he departed he shook my hand for way too long. He was really good at making me feel awkward and his accent was so thick I could hardly understand the guy. The poor guy. OH! He also sang Elvis' blue Christmas to me :)
The next guy to come along was probably 45-50 yrs. old... just a nice chat with the man.
Next, a man trying to avoid a "Swedish Chick" came and asked if he could hang around me to deter her. I said, "Sure."
Next, A few Irish folk, Johnny, Greg, and Suzy asked if I would like to join them. I thought why not... introductions were made and a little bit of chit-chat conducted. Johnny says, "I like your coat." and Greg says, "Well, I like your scarf." Soon enough, Greg grabs my hand and starts a harmless dance with me ... as I am thinking, "I don't really have a choice do I?" Quite honestly, these guys were too old, not "dashing" enough, and a wee bit smashed.
After a little bit of awkward dancing, I felt it was time for this girl to pack up and head back to the hostel. After all, it was late and I was alone. I am trying to play it safe.
The night was absolutely HILARIOUS. The Irish crack me up (especially while drinking in the pub).
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