I could have sworn I wrote a blog topic about this story, but I did a search for it, and it didn't come up. So I'll just forge on ahead, and if you've heard it before, please forgive me.
My grandmother moved to Savannah after my grandfather died. They had lived there before, and I have an aunt and cousins who have stayed in the area. When I was about 15 years old, my mother and I went to visit her sister (and the cousin closest to my own age) around St. Patrick's Day. I don't know if the trip was planned for St. Patrick's Day on purpose or if that's just when we wound up going. It would be a lot like winding up in New Orleans for Mardi Gras by accident. Or deciding you just have to see Times Square, and you forget to look at the calendar and don't realize it's New Year's Eve.
We watched the parade, and my cousin and I went out with some of her friends that night. There may or may not have been beverages drunk for which we were not of legal age. Probably not, but I believe in full disclosure even if the details are fuzzy.
We were walking down River Street, where a bunch of 15-year-olds had NO business being on or around St. Patrick's Day in Savannah. There was a very drunk sailor literally hanging onto a lamppost as I approached. He slurred, "You've got beautiful eyes...." (I can do this much better in person than typing. I'm just saying.)
That's just hard proof that he was officially drunk, since my eyes are the color of dead grass and are nothing to write home about, let alone beautiful.
I did as I had been taught and kept my eyes forward and pretended I didn't hear anything. I walked past without acknowledging the sailor's presence.
So when I was about 10 feet away from him, he yelled at the top of his lungs, "BUT YOU'VE GOT A BIG ASS!"
Mortified much? You betcha.