I’m sometimes mistaken for a leprechaun. Okay, so my skin tone is kind of green. It’s a medical condition and I’m seeking dermatology treatment. SO LAY OFF! Ironically, St. Patrick’s Day is my favorite holiday.
This is my survival story, with photographic documentation of my increasing intoxication throughout the day. I hope you enjoy my story and I hope your story was just as interesting….
1. I arrived at the pre-party around 10:30, which was in a high rise next to the lake. A couple of my favorite gnome buddies were there, and there were a lot of strange gnomes I’d never met before. As soon as I saw that the bathtub was full of beer, I knew this day was off to a good start. I cracked open a couple of Irish brews that were festive but mediocre in taste. Our taste buds were still in tact at this early stage of the day.
2. The random crowd splits up into several directions, but of course I choose the option that is in the direction of the bar. Our first bar stop is to Waterhouse. That’s what it was called although I certainly didn’t drink any water there. Well Miller Lite is practically water, so I guess the bar name was partially correct. My four other gnome comrades and I ordered some appetizers to get a good base in our stomachs for all the beer that was to come.
3. Our next stop was a house party in Wicker Park. Upon our arrival, we discovered that we knew absolutely no gnomes at this party and no gnomes new us. On any day other than St. Patrick’s day this might have been awkward. However, we quickly found a keg of green beer, red solo cups, and an upstairs patio to enjoy the warm sunshine.
4. After the feeling of intruding upon a random family party of old people became too much to bear, we decided to scope our a bar around the corner, Jack & Gingers. A couple gnomes stayed behind at the house party and a couple others joined us at the next bar. I decided it was time to switch over to some Irish whiskey. I mean the bar name was Jack & Gingers for god’s sake.
5. Then I discovered that shitty old man beer was only $2.50. Taste buds = numb. Wallet = almost empty. Standards getting lower.
6. And then my standards got even lower. And my blood alcohol content level got even higher. 
7. I started feeling a little queasy, so I figured it was time for an early evening snack. Ya just can’t beat big salty pretzels and gooey fake cheese.
8. The sun started to go down and we needed a change of scenery. My hardcore gnome buddy, Leonardo, and I split from the group and wandered into a bar called 6 Corners. I only remember seeing 4 of the corners, but everything was a little hazy by this point. It was so dark in here that I lied down for just a brief moment for a nap until Leonardo rudely kicked me away and shoved a Bells Amber Ale in front of me. 
9. To wake me up, I thought I’d give vodka a try! Why not?! I ordered an orange flavored vodka and diet coke. Suddenly I started feeling my second wind coming on. 
10. Then I lost my friends. I look around and I’m sitting on the bar stool all by my lonesome. Why does this always happen to me? Does everyone secretly hate me?!
11. Whatever screw ’em all. I’m headed to da club!These little gnome feet of mine are ready for to hit the dance floor. I stumbled down the road past all of the other stumbling gnomes dressed in green and into a club called Crocodile. I ordered a fishbowl full of god-knows-what. I saw the bartender pour like eight different things into this. I didn’t ask questions. It was goooooood.
12. That fishbowl did me in though. I was dancing like I’ve never danced before…I’m such an amazing dancer when I’m drunk. And then it hit me. I felt the vomit rising from my stomach, pushed through the crowds, flung open the bathroom door, and reached the Porcelain Goddess just in time. I will spare you from the photo documenting the projectile aftermath…it’s pretty gruesome. 
13. I’m pretty sure I blacked out after because I don’t remember getting home at all. I might have taken a cab, I might have taken the train, I might have hitchhiked….I’m really not sure. But I woke up in my own bed this morning, cuddling with my teddy bears. I would have rather woken up in some hot gnome chick’s bed cuddling with her, but eh oh well.
14. So in conclusion, I survived another St. Patrick’s Day. Today will be spent nursing my hangover with coconut water and prescription drugs. 
Wishing you all a speedy hangover recovery and ample time for naps,
Zookwinkle The Gnome
What a bargain! I knew the illegal gnome trade cartel was going through some economic difficulties, but gee whiz. In some gnome cultures, “miniature” gnomes are considered a rare delicacy and are bought and sold out in trailer parks for at least double that amount.
