Kelley Costello, a South Shore native who is third-generation Irish, knows a thing or two about how to celebrate St. Patrick’s day. Costello has preformed with the Dropkick Murphys and worked for Ken Casey at his bar, McGreevy’s Third Base Saloon, since it opened in April of 2008. Here are some of her tips on how to avoid looking like an amateur on St. Patrick’s Day.
What are some major don’ts on St. Patrick’s Day?
You don’t puke after the first car bomb, you don’t wear a shirt that says “Kiss me I’m Irish” — because that cliché has run it’s course. ... Don’t think you’re the drunkest one, the most privileged one or the only one in the barroom that’s Irish, ... this is Boston, let’s be serious. And finally, do not order a “Smith-wick’s” it’s pronounced “Smiddick’s.”
What’s the biggest poseur move?
When people wear plaid kilts and scaly caps and they’re from Pennsylvania and Ohio. Not that there aren’t any god-loving Irish folk there but if you don’t have a brogue or you don’t belong to the Bunker Hill pipe band, or are Scruffy Wallace, you shouldn’t be wearing a skirt.
If you want to do something genuinely Irish on St. Patrick’s Day what should you do?
Help your mother boil the dinner and take some time to go to church.
What should your drinking timeline be like and what should you drink?
Don’t drink whiskey or car bombs off the bat; if you do that, then you blackout and make an ass of yourself in front of all the people trying to enjoy the day. Jameson. Guinness. Baileys. Nuf Ced.