Scary St. Patty's

My chest tightened, I clutched my purse close to my core, and I just concentrated on breathing. That's right, I was headed into the heart of Queens, and I was a little scared.

I was scared because our car on the 7 train was filled with the most unsavory characters, and the standouts were sitting across from us. It was a couple - a man and woman. The woman was crying, and the man was ignoring her whimpers. Yep, a battered woman - and it was an awful scene to watch. She had watery eyes, gazing for his approval. He was listening to an ipod, ignoring her advances of touch and glance. He had a gold grill, lots of gold chains, a pencil-thin beard; guido top to bottom. Then, it got gross...

The woman (girlfriend, wife, whatever) starts popping a zit on his face! Alex and I look at each other with the common thought: "Are we seeing this right?!" I look back to make sure - and yes, she's using her two acrylic nailed paws to pop a zit on his face! Alex can't watch anymore, but I'm glued to the mess because it's like watching two chimpanzees cleaning each other. Then, after she pops the zit - she shows him what she squeezed out of his face! Alex again buries her head into my shoulder, but I can't look away. Then, this woman goes to another area of this guy's face and proceeds to pop another zit! We ran (and I mean RAN) off the train at our stop and didn't look back. Unsavory characters indeed.

Now Alex and I are in Queens... and we feel pretty much like fish out of water. Neither of us knows where we're going, it seems dark and 'murky' - and we're still processing the woman picking her man's face.

Now, you may ask yourself - what are 2 Manhattan girls doing Queens at all? We're in Queens for St. Patty's Day - a pub crawl invitation extended by Heather, who had promised to buy us beers for every Irishman we french-kissed. Woodside part of Queens is known for its large Irish population. Always up for the adventure, Alex joins in the fun... which is rapidly becoming not-so-fun.

We make it to the first bar 'Donovan's Pub' and plop down amid lots more guidos and pray that none hit on us (Alex wisely advises: "Don't lock eyes with ANYONE but me). In the meantime, we've worked up stories to sell ourselves to these Irishmen we're supposed to kiss for free Heather-beer. I work at INS, and Alex works at Conan O'Brien... putting us in GREAT position to get some action. Bar stinks - bartenders aren't even Irish, and there are a ton of old alcoholics there. We down 3 beers each until Heather and her boyfriend arrive.

We all then decide to hit the next bar, Saints & Sinners - which is filled with drunkards. We find seats and I tell Alex to find boys at the bar and send them to me (apparently, I'm a queen at this point and Alex is tasked with filling my court full of hardy, Irishmen). She brings over two guys and they're from ECUADOR. Not the Irishmen I'm looking for... She sends over another guy, who holds out his hand and says, "I hear you read palms." Thanks a lot Alex. I slide into physic/palm reader role and give him a free reading - impressed at even myself for the very real part I'm now playing. We talk his strong life line, how his relationship will crumble in a couple years, but that after he picks up the pieces - he'll find love again. He buys it all, but he's a little too "pierced and tattoo'd" for me, so I send him along.

Now, while Alex is still trying to find guys - flitting and flirting her way around the bar - Heather, her boyfriend and I are talking. Heather tries to impress us by lighting a match on a matchbook with one hand. She does it, and says "The coolest thing is when you can slide the lit match across the table to someone who needs a light." She shows us this maneuver, and the flaming matchbook falls into my lap. Like a stunt guide for The Matrix, I react almost immediately - afraid to have my crotch afire. She laughs through apologies, as I still process the misfortune which could have seriously happened. I then try the matchbook "trick", and burn my finger. Great. Now I'm dousing my burnt finger in beer - I'm sure that's attractive to the men-folk.

Alex doesn't find any suitors for us, so we bought all our own beer. Heather's ex-boyfriend, ToxicMike, shows up randomly and sits next to her current boyfriend, which was really weird because THEY LOOK ALMOST EXACTLY LIKE EACH OTHER. Heather then remarks that my mouth is "super-cute" and I still don't know what that was about. Amid all the confusion and burnt finger and Irish deficiency, Alex and I decide to bolt - and after another Heather hug-fest by a bar bathroom, we were out the door and into a gypsy cab bound for Manhattan.