Foodchair

It is difficult to describe how my personality developed.  The best possible explanation is to look at my surroundings growing up.  I am the second of three children.  

A boy between two girls is always a father’s savior and a mother’s rock.  I would not go as far as to say I was the favorite, but I did get preferential treatment.  It wasn’t until high school that I even got in trouble.  

My last name is of Irish decent, and it translates to ‘banished or outlawed.’  Now most people would take this namesake as undesirable however we (my family) embody it.

We have a Gaelic phrase that identifies our character failte ‘ which means celebration and welcome.  These two ideas seem to be counter-intuitive, but we over emphasize the celebration aspect.  The resulting factors include misplacing of welcome and being removed from the celebration.  

This concept has been exonerated on the most dangerous of holidays, St Patrick’s Day.

The setting, Naples Florida, for those that have never been, it is where old rich people live during the unbearable winters in the north-east and mid-west.  

Everyone else down there is either waiting to die while playing golf and tennis in the 95 degree heat or a piece of white trash that fishes in swamps for dinner.  

My parents moved down there from Westchester NY after I graduated college in 08.  It’s now been almost 4 years and they are becoming more and more Floridian.  Their skin is beginning to take on the same consistency as leather.  Physically they are in better shape than the last 15 years because now they feel that those who are fat or overweight are just lazy.    

Being Irish we take St. Patrick’s Day seriously.  My Parents plans were to begin drinking at 10am with my little sister 23 and her new male friend from her serving position at Tommy Bahamas.  Downtown Naples is only full of designer shops and epically over priced eateries.  Consistently out of place here my family travels to each of the riotous scenes drinking their fill along the way.  Paddy Murphy’s was one of their last stops.

 

Pounding pitchers of green beer and shots of Jameson led the Fogarty’s to be rather loud ostentatious and intoxicated.  The bar manager decided that their table needed to be removed to create more floor space.  This was poorly communicated to the table, right after a pitcher of beer arrived.  Kelley my youngest sister begins to cause a scene with the aggressive asshole of a manager.  He is yelling and trying to kick out this table full of ignorant micks draped in their green Fogarty family reunion t-shirts out of his bar at 2 in the afternoon.  

At this moment when my family is at their finest, Kelley empties an entire pint of green beer overtop this fuming managers head.  As expected this did not go over well.  If the situation hadn’t come to a head now was about the time.  Two large ginger Irish women chase Kelley out of Paddy Murphy’s.  Security soon follows and begins to remove my mother and father.  Of course My mom is still trying to drink her beer while being forced to leave.  Security doesn’t appreciate this and removes the beverage from her overly intoxicated hand.  The only logical reaction to this is two steal a beer off of another table and run out.  Well atleast that was her thought process at this point.  

 

My father was already outside when he sees his wife being chased out by two security members and the soaking wet manager screaming about her stealing.  Tom being of the most sound mind of the Fogarty’s we expect him to handle this situation with poise and solidarity.  A 60 year old man has learned enough from his time on this earth to recognize the proper thing to do.  Confrontation is not an option.  Think again.  

A solid left hook to the manager’s lower jaw sends him crumpling to the ground.  Now lets take a look at this scene.  The 23 year old daughter is being beat up on fifth avenue in downtown Naples after dousing a manager in beer.  My mother is stealing beers off of tables while being kicked out.  And my Father is busy negotiating the terms of my family’s departure with his fists. John Jameson would have been proud to see the chaos, which ensued.  

 

A narrow escape is made as the fatherly instinct kicked in and he swept them away to safety.  Well the outdoor café across the street seemed like a safe place, until barney fife of Naples PD and his two partners all roll up in their brand new Chargers, Sirens blaring.  They continue to enjoy their beers and collective cocktails inside away from all that crazy commotion outside.