There once was a group called the "New England Broadcasters Association" or NEBA. If you were a broadcaster from any of the New England States you could join and did they ever.
The best NEBA party of the year was the annual ST. Patrick's Day party. It was so big, broadcasters from all over the country made plans to be in Boston for the NEBA party.If you celebrate St. Patrick's Day American style, (an excuse to get drunk on a week day) The NEBA Party was exactly what you were looking for.
One year in the 70's the Party started at noon at the old Bradford Hotel in the theater district. Corned Beef, cabbage, boiled potatoes and carrots, plenty of beer (not green) and Irish Whisky.
The entertainment? Carmel Quinn and Dennis Day. They both looked like they were made up by an undertaker...
20 odd years later, my St. Patrick's Day went like this, lunch with a friend of mine at a Japanese restaurant (?) the food was good, but the conversation left a lot to be desired. I listened to 2 hours of complaints about her marriage. Around 3 we met a couple of friends for drinks at Daisy Buchanan's, an hour or so at Daisy's and we were off to the NEBA Party, held this year at a blues and barbeque joint. (?) The band, I can't remember their name, was okay. The food was pretty good, I had ribs and brisket, I think.
One thing led to another and I became the "boyfriend" of a Lipstick Lesbian I knew, my function was simple, keep guys from hitting on her. Our party had now grown to 8 or ten people, including two sisters from Brighton who latched onto the seriously drunk Kevin. Kev was at the point in the evening where all he could do was grin. My friend Tommy fell in love and disappeared with a TV reporter.
At the Cantab Lounge in Cambridge, I sat next to a retired bus driver at the bar. He hated the band and kept yelling for them to "turn that shit down".
He thought my lesbian "date" was the best looking thing he'd seen in years. He asked me if I was "tapping" her. Before I could answer, she jumped in and said, "Wouldn't you like to be, pal?" I just smiled at him. Somebody bought me a shot of Bushmills, I slid it in front of the old bus driver, he thanked me and slammed it. He told me, I was a "lucky man".
The Lipstick Lesbian and I lost Kevin and the sisters somehow, Tommy was gone with the TV lady and Billy wandered off. My unhappy friend and her husband had left hours ago. It was just the two of us.
Somehow we caught a cab to get back across the river. Lipstick couldn't drive so she stayed at my place, I loaned her a t-shirt to sleep in, we crawled into bed and said, "We can snuggle but keep your hands to yourself."