Everyone knows that there is no better time than March Madness. There is an abundance of college basketball on TV and an abundance of gambling in all workplaces. In the past as tradition we would spend the opening days watching as much basketball as we could, however adulthood has started to interfere. Luckily for myself I work for a sports company so I got to watch the games at work. However, the madness isn’t confined to the weekdays. Whats more, combine the first Saturday of the tournament with St. Patty’s Day and you got yourself one heck of a celebration. This year, the temple of celebration…..Bailey’s.
I thought I was being smart, I was supposed to pickup Melissa and Ostrowe at 2:00 so I left the house at 1:30 so I could account for the bad weather (which is still on my shit list). Of course as expected it took me 30 minutes to get out of my driveway. After picking up Melissa, I called Ostrowe to tell him that we were on his street, he informed that he had heard from Jim$. On a whim, Jim$ decided he was going to fly to Buffalo to watch the Maryland game in person, but JFK would not let his private jet take-off. This left Jim$ irate because he still had to pay his pilot for showing up even though they didn’t fly anywhere. But this did mean that he could meet us at Bailey’s.
When I got to Ostrowe’s house, his driveway was under a foot of snow because his Mexicools had not showed up yet. I parked across the street and Melissa and I watched as he trudged through the snow and across the busy street. As we drove to Bailey’s we expected the worse. St. Patty’s combined with the March Madness DirecTv Package should have equaled wall-to-wall people, but we were pleasantly surprised to get to Bailey’s and find the place empty. It actually took us 10 minutes to decide which table we should sit at. So now at this point it is me, Ostrowe, Melissa and Lindsay. Of course we order the stock Bailey’s Special #1 (Wings, Pizza and a Pitcher for 15 bucks). From the second we got to Bailey’s the basketball games were all fantastic, completely making up for the dismal first two days of the tournament. Ohio State pulled out a miraculous victory over Xavier. But since they are the number one team in the country, that’s what they are supposed to do. We also found out that Melissa often wears pants under her pants.
Next up was the important game. Maryland vs. Butler. At that moment the door opened and in walked Mr. and Mrs. Mohr (carrying a stuffed singing Testudo). Moments later they are followed by Jim$ Himself. Now we have quite the gathering of Maryland rooters. While the Mohr’s are there, we enjoyed telling stories about Dmo and his job which sadly lets him leave work at 12 noon each day so he can spend the afternoon by the pool or drinking on his balcony. Everyone is pounding pitcher after pitcher and it is an all-around good time. Especially when Melissa texts Jim$, who is sitting across the table mind you, with the message: “boobies and titties.” Apparently Mr. Mohr saw the message, but thankfully Melissa didn’t find this out until later.
Now for people who don’t know, Bailey’s, while a bar, can also seem to double as a daycare. No joke, half of the people who go there bring their children with them. And they never seem to come with just one child. It’s like they agree to host a playdate at their house for five kids or so, then after 15 minutes of the kids being there they realize this was such a bad idea so the parent brings them all to Bailey’s so they can get cocked while the kids horse around and the parents don’t have to drop a ton of money on video games like they do at Dave & Busters.
Unfortunately, Maryland loss to Butler which left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth, but then again we were at Bailey’s on St. Patty’s Day. After the game, Mr Mohr so kindly picked up our tab like a true gentleman. Then literally, as the Mohr’s walked out the door, the alcohol buzz hit everyone at the table. Behind closed doors Jim$ came out into the open and like normal was the catalyst for the rest of the day.
In our 8 hours at Bailey’s we ordered around 15 pitchers. And by 6:00 it showed.
in one tirade about the downside of breast reduction surgery, Jim$ grabbed the attention of one of the eight-year-old girls floating around the bar and told her never get breast reduction. Then Jim$, Melissa, and Lindsay got into a spirited discussion of who was the most active. After a good hour debate, I’m still not sure they got anywhere.
Then the aformentioned moms came back into play.
Ostrowe: Excuse me, the next round of whatever those ladies over there are drinking is on me.
Waitress: The ones over there?
Lindsay: Yea, the ones over there with all the babies.
Ostrowe: Shut up Lindsay
The women were so flattered by Ostrowe’s act of kindness that they bought our table a pitcher. And one of the women even came over and thanked us. Her name was Lisa Greico and she was the main focus of Ostrowe’s attention, mostly because like Ostrowe had an affinity for pointing out, “She had titties the size of you head.” Later the two of them would talk again and Ostrowe asked her if she was going to be in Pearl River the next day for the St. Patty’s Day Parade. Her response, “Yes, I’ll be across the street from the bowling alley. With my husband.”
There were a few more encounters with the daycare students at Bailey’s before the host told us to stop cursing. Melissa and Jim$ got picture happy and unfortunatly for Lindsay, she became the focus of all the pictures. Ostrowe, after previously pulling the chair out from under her while she was sitting down, called over two little kids and asked them if they would like to take a picture with her and that they should just stare at her boobs. I’d like to see what happens to these kids when they grow up.
By 8:00 I was winded and figured Lindsay and I could catch a flick after the bar. Jim$ had convinced Ostrowe and Melissa to go to a party with him. Lindsay and I had no desire to go to any party, but we figured we should make sure that they would make it to the party. So we followed them for five minutes….still driving….Melissa calls: “Where are you guys.” “Right behind you Melis.”……..ten minutes…..text from Melissa: “We are behind you.” No you’re not……fifteen minutes….twenty minutes…….where the hell are we going….and we wound up in Pucking Farsippany. I hate New Jersey.