For the Love of the Pint: Dating an Irishman

Not many cultures pride themselves on their ability to belly up to the bar and down more bevvies than his or her neighbor. And what holiday besides St. Pat's is primarily associated with getting drunk?  Well Mardi Gras is, but no one would openly admit to having French heritage or want to be French for the day, so let's not count that for the sake of my argument.

And for my friends of Irish descent that are irritated at the cliche: why don't ye ask me bollocks? Go and shite! Eff off and don't be annoying me. 'Tis my fekkin' blog and I write whatever I please.
 
Now, what happens when a mild mannered lass falls in love with a young man just out for the craic?  If she meets him in a bar, we have full disclosure.  She has seen him in is natural habitat and knows what she's getting herself into.  But if she gets to know him outside of his local and on sober terms, she is meeting only half a man.

Her Irish-American specimen isn't always langered so she falls in love with the half she knows. When she discovers he's of Irish descent, she shouldn't be surprised when a casual date night becomes a full on session. Normally, girls size up men for marriage material within minutes of the first meet and this penchant for the pint may scare off the ladies. Girls tend to think that a guy who's often chemically inconvenienced by beer is a turn-off.

But for our lad, its in his DNA.  So instead of fighting nature its important to understand that it is not the need for a drink but a quest for the craic and thirst for a good time that drives him to the pub.  Its a sign of his fun-loving attitude and ability to let loose. And why not use his predisposition to our advantage? The truth comes out when the spirit goes in.  Want to know the hopes, dreams and fears of an Irishman? Get him drunk. But not too drunk.  Because after too many, he'll ignore anything he can't drink or punch.

So gals, if you are still on fence about your Irish-American lad, worry not. Take those long nights of drinking and fighting in stride and let my grandmother's words ease your mind: "If he would step over ten naked women to get to a pint, you've got yourself a keeper."
 
And things could always be worse. Your motto could be that of my fiancee, my father, and my grandfather: "Pray for me, my wife is Irish".