Sporting my best back to school duds, I set out to recapture some of my grade school innocence in Trinity Rooms last Tuesday night. Feel free to comment on that as you see fit.
The real story, however, lies in that fine piece of 100% wool that I wore on my head. It only took 20 seconds, without
any story-enhancing exaggeration, for the first hat compliment of the night after walking into the club.
And there were many more to come. All night, I was getting smiles and points from guys and girls alike. I can't remember how many times people took the hat off my head (I can't remember if
that was because so many people did it or because of the Guinness) and put it on their head while we were on the dance floor. A few people even must have sworn they had misplaced their own hat on my head, because they grabbed it, put it on their own head, and started to walk off.
At the end of the night, however, I was able to walk home with my hat, my tie (much to my dismay, the Irish proved themselves not to be knowledgeable in the Scooby Doo category, overly enamoured with my hat, or perhaps both), and my innocence. Which in a night club can be saying something.
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