A Drunkard's Lament: Fallout from St. Paddy's Day at the Goat | Cafe Society | Denver | Denver Westword | The Leading Independent News Source in Denver, Colorado
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A Drunkard's Lament: Fallout from St. Paddy's Day at the Goat

As anyone who was keeping up with the live blog of the St. Patrick's Day/Jonathan Shikes fortieth birthday celebrations at the Fainting Goat yesterday is well aware, there came a point after several hours of Bud Light, Guinness and Irish car bombs when the acquisition of McDonald's Shamrock Shakes became...
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As anyone who was keeping up with the live blog of the St. Patrick's Day/Jonathan Shikes fortieth birthday celebrations at the Fainting Goat yesterday is well aware, there came a point after several hours of Bud Light, Guinness and Irish car bombs when the acquisition of McDonald's Shamrock Shakes became a vital point of concern for all us lushes gathered on the rooftop patio. 

Our thought? Mixing several ounces of lukewarm, green minty milkshake with a shot or two of Jameson whiskey would be delicious. We thought this in the same way that any run-of-the-mill drunk on any run-of-the-mill day might suddenly think that a big plate of greasy french fries smothered in powdered beef gravy and cheese would be delicious or eating one of those Dolly Madison fruit pies that's been sitting on the shelf of the local convenience store since the Carter administration would be delicious

Basically, if you've been drinking steadily since early morning and then lunch (or dinner) time rolls unexpectedly around, almost anything that's not more beer, more whiskey or more whiskey-and-beer depth charges sounds absolutely fucking delicious.

Even a Shamrock Shake.

There were several problems with our plan, though.  First and most vital, none of us gathered around the table had been to a McDonald's in about a decade, so we had no idea that McDonald's had stopped offering the Shamrock Shake (except in rare instances) sometime in the '90s. 

Second, none of us actually wanted to get up and go to McDonald's ourselves. 

Third, most of us couldn't remember where the nearest McDonald's might be and some of us could no longer remember where our cars were. 

And finally, at least one member of our party felt that the addition of whiskey to a milkshake would result not in the green and minty Shamrocky fun that the rest of us anticipated, but rather a half-dozen professional drinkers blowing green and minty chunks over the retaining wall of the Goat's rooftop patio and down onto the heads of unsuspecting passersby below.

But that's beside the point. We tried calling everyone we knew and asking if they'd deliver Shamrock Shakes to us at the bar. I called Tyler, our intern, who was in Boulder, at school and in no mood for our shenanigans (even though I'm fairly sure that "acceding to the retarded and drunken demands of the staff restaurant critic at any time and in any place" was part of his job description when we brought on the ungrateful little whelp), as well as a couple of chefs who were not amused, two of my fellow writers (neither of whom could even understand what I was talking about), Jonathan Shikes (who I'd temporarily forgotten was sitting right next to me) and East Coast Dave, my agent in Manhattan, because part of our working arrangement is also for him to "accede to the retarded and drunken demands of Jason Sheehan at any time and in any place," though he had wisely put a block on his phone and instructed the receptionist not to take any calls from me on St. Patrick's Day or any other day that might see me, on a professional basis, drunk before noon.

Finally, we did convince (read: bribe) one of the bartenders at the Goat to go out and procure Shamrock Shakes for us. (The measure of a good bartender?  One who will, for the right price, go out into the world and procure almost anything a regular and steady customer asks for when on a proper bender.) Sadly, she came back about fifteen minutes later to tell us, with palpable and abject disappointment in her eyes, that McDonald's no longer serves Shamrock Shakes.  Or, at least, none of the McDonald's outlets she tried did.

In retrospect, I thank both Jesus and the McDonald's Corporation that they made this prudent business decision so long ago. At the time, though, I was devastated. For about a minute.  Then the next round arrived and I promptly forgot all about it and came up with a new brilliant idea: How much beer, exactly, would it take to make a goat faint on the rooftop of the Fainting Goat -- and where does a man go to get a goat in a hurry on St. Patrick's Day? I called Tyler to demand that he get me a goat, a hose and a funnel, but was interrupted by a call I had to take, and pretend I was the operator for the Denver Zoo's general information number.

It's a long story and not important here.

What is important: As it turns out, there are still a few McDonald's restaurants that serve the Shamrock Shake. Those of you looking to get a little weird and minty on the day after St. Paddy's should check out www.shamrockshake.com and enter your state. If you're in Colorado, you'll get the bad news that no Mickey D's in Denver serves the shake any more, but a few locations outside the city will still hook you up.

Oh, and by the way: You know where I got that website information from?  From my very understanding and enabling Manhattan literary agent.  He just e-mailed it to me about an hour ago. So good lookin' out, East Coast Dave. That's why you're the best.

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