9 Signs You’re a Real Beantown Bro on St. Paddy’s Day

A reader shot over this guide to St. Patty’s in Boston. Does it ring true, Boston bros?


You put in for a March 18th vacation day back in 2013.

You sport a Larry Bird T-Shirt, which way cooler than any typical green t-shirt).

You drink a pint or 6 for breakfast at The Black Rose. Boston is awash in Irish bars and restaurants. Visiting many of them is the equivalent of visiting the Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas. You walk in, see lots of chubby tourists and meathead dudes and immediately regret your choice. But you know you’ve started your day out right if you begin at The Black Rose. It’s real. There are fiddle players. Honest to God fiddle players. It’s a nice piece of Irish authenticity in a city awash in cheap knockoffs.

You hit up the Southie Parade and your first move lands you a party at your little brother’s friends apartment, which resembles your college basement.

You indulge in jello shots while watching a terrible marching band on a roof deck, with no knowledge of how you got there.

You painfully belt the words of “Shippin’ Up to Boston” as if it is actually your favorite song.

You walk the Freedom Trail. Wait, what are you f’ing nuts? You’re gonna walk the Freedom Trail? Are you on a 7th grade field trip? Get exercise on your own time. Go watch the History Channel if you want to learn stuff. You’re here for Evacuation Day. Drink, eat, repeat. Drink, eat, repeat.

You drop your work iPhone in the toilet because catching up on work email at midnight is always a good idea.

You close down at J.J. Foley’s rocking an outfit that appears to be different than the one you had when you started your day 16 hours prior.