On St. Patrick's Day: Advice for the Young Men of Chicago

Tomorrow, the Chicago River goes green.

And if you for one shake believe the bro-tastic, craic-hunting revelers will be on their best behavior, you don’t know a fake Irishman.

They will clothe themselves in cheap novelty things. Fill their flagons with Jameson. Get blotto before 9 a.m. Sing along to Flogging Molly. And then they will descend.

This is a guide to avoid being one of those: 17 Pieces of Unsolicited Advice to the Young Men of Chicago on St. Patrick’s Day.

Our advice to you: stay indoors, fix yourself a drink and read on.

We have three St. Patrick’s Day parades: only two are worth visiting, and it’s not the one Downtown.
It’s not “St. Patty’s Day,” it’s “St. Paddy’s Day,” with two Ds. Patty is short for Patricia. Paddy is Patrick, and he of the sainthood.
A man does not drink warm beer polluted with green dye. Instead, he sips on Goose Island’s Green Line beer and calls it even.
Don’t call a real Irishman “Bro.”
Not even leprechauns look good dressed like leprechauns.
Soda bread before beer, you’re in the clear. Corned beef and cabbage before liquor, never been sicker.
Get familiar with the lyrics to “Danny Boy.” You will sing it once, most likely in an all-male choral sing-along.
Today is not the day to critique your bartender’s Guinness pour, or tell everyone about your home-brewing hobby.
A “Kiss me, I’m Irish” T-shirt is not an invitation.
Don’t wear nice shoes. Because that’s not green beer on the floor.
When in doubt, go home and take a nap. Then stay there.
If you are given a necklace with a shot glass attached, unfriend the person who gave it to you.
If the number of Irish Car Bombs you can drink impresses those immediately around you, reconsider your drinking circle.
Party trolley parked outside? Think twice.
If the person sitting next to you on the train is not wearing a wacky hat, beads or anything that remotely resembles green, leave them alone and for the love of God, do not pinch them.
Pay for her cab, Lyft or Uber home.
Stay indoors. Read Ulysses. Live with zero regrets.