This Week for Happy Hour: Three Day Weekend Your Face Off

An important distinction: whenever there is a national holiday on a Monday, and most everyone gets the day off from work or school, that is called a “three day weekend.”  It is NOT, mind you, called a “long weekend.”  I’ll explain:

There’s something about that third day off that makes people act a little different.  And you know exactly what I mean.  There’s that whole extra day until your responsibilities come knocking, and generally that results in lots of – as if I have to say it – parties.  Especially in the summer.  Daytime drinking, nighttime drinking, beach drinking, bar drinking, hopefully not car drinking, but you just never know.  And what happens when you drink that much?

Besides good times.

Remember?  It’s what makes time travel possible.  The flux capacitor’s half-brother, alcohol, gets excited and buys you a ticket for a cerebral roller coaster.  You’re at a backyard party, you’re drinking, you black out, you come to: you’re at the Rhino.  (Ok, we expected this.)  You keep drinking, you black out, you come to: you’re in Ocean City.  (What?  How?)  More drinking, you black out, you come to: you’re walking down M St. and it’s dawn and you’re broke.  “What day is it?” you ask a passerby.  And it’s Tuesday morning.  Quick, run home and shower and change because you gotta be at work in two hours!

Now, in what way was that a long weekend?

It wasn’t.  You know why?  Because it was a three day weekend, and those little fuckers go by faster than green grass through a goose. 

But hell, it was well worth it.  Never mind that you’re broke now and very badly sunburned and you’re probably going to have to use that special shampoo for a couple weeks, again.  Because you just three day weekended your face off, my friend.  Understand, that’s some accomplishment.  It’s like the drinking equivalent of hitting three homeruns in a game, or completing the Hail Mary pass with three seconds on the clock, or clearing every hurdle without tripping and eating poo in front of a sold-out crowd at the Olympics.  Or, you know, something like that.  It’s impressive, and you should hold your chin up and push your chest out, find your wits and swagger proudly home, taking your time ’cause you’re cool, baby, and also hum Fanfare for the Common Man, by Aaron Copland the whole way.  Here it is: 

Maybe put your hands to the sky at the dramatic parts.  I don't know, just a suggestion.  Anyway, kudos and well done!  You deserved every second of it, fully conscious or not.

Start the three day weekend off right, at Rhino Bar for Happy Hour.  Half-price everything (except the alfredo and JWB scroners).  See you there!

Cheers,

Finnegan

P.S. You think you’ve got the plums to four day weekend your face off?  Oh, really?  Then prove it: come upstairs on Thursday, before midnight, and make it official.  (…this guy thinks he can four day weekend his face off…)