So, it seems that most people are familiar with the stereotype that all Irish people are big time drinkers.
Coming from Irish ancestry and having encountered many natural born Irish citizens; I feel qualified to address this stereotype.
It is totally true.
This past weekend, whilst in Belgium, my friends (Brix and River, River is my best friend from high school’s little sister who happens to be studying abroad in Antwerp but came out to Brussels to hang for the night) and I encountered some Irishmen at a bar on Friday. They were very funny (obviously also an Irish trait), and relatively drunk already upon meeting.
We sat and had a chat with them for a bit. They bought us a round of beers. Brix and I were still feeling extremely tired and mildly hungover from Munich the night before, so we politely sipped our beers and when the lads weren’t looking slipped our glasses over to River. So, potentially the fact that River got chocolate-wasted was Brix and my fault, but that’s outside of the story. We had some laughs and came to the conclusion that this bar was far too hot. Like, buckets-of-sweat-pouring-out-hot and Brix and I weren’t even drinking, so it must have actually been the same temperature as the Sahara in there.
So, we moved on to another bar.
This bar happened to be an Irish themed bar.
The guys were in their element.
They continued to drink and got even funnier and very dance-y. They kept making fun of each other and one of the biggest joke of the night was that one of the guys booked a room across town for a comfortable king sized bed while the other couldn’t be bothered and booked a six-bed dorm style hostel so he could just be a walk away from the bars. Obviously, we joined in on making fun of the second guy because, well, way to be a stereotype man.
Although we were having a great time, laughing and dancing, Brix and I were absolutely destroyed- unnaturally tired since I had only slept for 45 minutes on the six hour train to Brussels that morning and not at all the night before.
We decided it was time to go. The guys stayed at the bar and bid us farewell.
We were walking back to our hostel; which was only about 10 minutes from the Irish bar.
We were getting closer when we heard whistling behind us. It wasn’t like cat-calling, it was more a whistle to get our attention.
It being 2 AM, naturally we were freaked out a bit, and started to walk faster.
Our main focus was getting to the hostel and getting to sleep.
The whistling got louder; then our names were beginning to be yelled.
That’s when we turned.
It was the second Irish guy who was staying in a hostel.
Turns out, he was staying in our hostel.
What are the odds?
But, he hadn’t collected the key to his room or even bothered to put his luggage in his room since he arrived earlier than the actual check in time.
He was also piss-drunk at this point, walking the streets at 2 AM with sunglasses on, drunk. We get tour building and he tells us the debacle.
We obviously start laughing.
He had no way to get into his room. He didn’t even know where is room was.
So, Brix and I had the main concern of getting River to bed since she was in a different dorm than us. So, we are laughing at Irish guy as he walks up the steps in attempt to find his bed. He’s being so loud and cursing the whole way.
The halls were very echo-y and you could hear him stop at almost every floor and then continue up.
Brix and I were still working on getting River situated.
Then we hear him come back down the steps and stop at what is obviously the bathroom and ask a guy who is brushing his teeth if that was room 404 (his room).
We tell him that he is only on the first floor and that his room is more than likely on the fourth floor, so he treks back up the steps and only a few minutes later is heading back down again.
He stops and asks some other people what floor he’s on and they tell him, “the first floor.”
He was like a cross between a lost puppy and a hilarious sitcom all in one go.
He was really frustrated and even if he had found his room, would not have been able to get in without waking up all of his roommates anyway.
So, that’s how Brix and ended up with an Irishman in her bed and I ended up with a Brix in my bed.