Despite having blue eyes and fair -- strike that -- "Casper" skin, my Irish enthusiasm hardly extends beyond the last bite of my ironically expensive marshmallow treasures in a bowl of Lucky Charms when I admire the pale green milk before pouring it down my gullet.
Or when replenishing my tissue supply, I might snag the vivid green two-ply. This may seem like an Irish impulse, but I simply find it funny to color coordinate my nasal discharge with tissues. Forgive my candidness.
Reading that will undoubtedly shame my mother who cherishes her maiden name Kelly with four-leaf clover conviction. A natural blond, she has dyed her locks radish red for more than a decade. Her eyebrows might as well be rainbows; her pupils shimmering pots o' gold.
"My father's family came from Donegal and Roscommon," she tells me.
Under the reins of my ancestral guilt, I figured I could pay pseudo-homage to my withered roots by drenching them with liquor.
While many of you were vomiting off the sides of swaying ships or stubbing your toes on skimboards last week, my roommates and I assumed the roles of perpetually parched bar vagrants here in Blacksburg.
Linh Kooc (her family is not, in fact, dyslexic) and Nathaniel "Tweety" Ball (he has no idea where his nickname originated) are both senior industrial design majors and seasoned legal consumers of alcohol.
On behalf of the Collegiate Times, I asked several local watering holes to conjure their most eccentric St. Patty's Day beverages and courageously set them on a pedestal for our ranking and your holiday consumption.
We used a 1-100 scale to produce averages that yielded standard exam letter grades, although what each letter means isn't exactly concrete. It's something along these lines: An "F" would be like gargling your liver's bile while an "A" is the delicious nectar of the heavens. To compliment our alphabetic designations, each judge has offered a flavorful synopsis for each drink to wet your appetite.
TOP OF THE STAIRS
TOTS was closed last week, but 11-year employee and current general manager Jason Brauns kindly opened the doors for our taste test.
The ambiance of an unoccupied TOTS is reminiscent of what could be a scholar's yacht. The wooden walls are mature and the lighting is soft and warm; I half-expected to see a pale (well, dead) Ernest Hemingway pulling literature from library shelves and puffing on a pipe.
For protection, Brauns did wield a guard dog: a seven-week-old Boxer puppy named Maggie. Clearly suffering from youthful ADHD, Maggie frantically roamed beneath our feet, resulting in sporadic yelps when our shifting stances nipped a paw.
Brauns eventually took her behind the bar to oversee his production of TOTS' specialty beverage.
"The Green Rail"
Ryan: It's like the last few chews upon a piece of watermelon Bubble Yum. The taste is distinct but subdued with hardly a sensible kick of liquor. Two of these could have you singing "O Danny Boy" at the top of your lungs; thereupon Brauns might give you the boot for being a terrible vocalist.
Linh: The Green Rail is much like the original rail in that its flavors are subtle and the several shots of liquor are well masked; however, the green version pleasantly surprises you with sweet and tangy melon undertones.
Tweety: If I want a quick kick, this drink is probably what I would get. I rated it high because I couldn't taste the alcohol, but I would just prefer disguising the alcohol with something that isn't so fruity or sweet.
"Do you think you'll ever do a Valentine's Day Rail?" asked our photographer, Daniel Lin.
"I should," Brauns said through a chuckle.
PK'S
Before Tweety arrived, we loitered in front of PK's, but we didn't face Main Street. Lost in a large window's reflections, I was inadvertently staring at a family within. They had essentially stopped eating and returned my gaze with offended eyebrows. I did a 180-degree spin, quickly.
I originally talked with enthusiastic PK's manager Ed Darling. He asked bar manager Mike Hollett to host our visit. Hollett whipped up three heavy shooters, but we decided his first was best.
"The Blarney Stoner"
R: It's like a high five between Mr. Columbia Coffee Juan Valdez and the Nesquik Rabbit, which is only theoretically possible. Maybe that's why I loved it.
L: I expected a typical creamy shooter. Instead, it was a delightful treat for my taste buds. Brimming with vibrant sweet and creamy coffee flavors, the Blarney Stoner was enjoyable for someone who doesn't even drink coffee.
T: I'm not an avid coffee drinker, and this drink was almost too much like that. The only time I picked up on the coffee flavor was when turning up the cup, though, and the long-lasting aftertaste was really good. I would prefer drinking this over a long period of time; not as a shooter.
If "The Blarney Stoner" isn't for you, ask for a "Nutty Irishman" or an "Irish Candy."
HOKIE HOUSE
We stood in an idle circle -- no one was behind the first floor bar. I leaned heel-to-toe for 60 seconds before Rocky jogging upstairs to see whether anyone actually worked there.
Alas, I spotted a bartender intently watching one of many television screens.
"I'm looking for Brian Palmer," I said.
Apparently he was downstairs all along. The bartender disappeared behind a wall to contact Palmer via tin can phone, Morse code or quite possibly an intercom. I chose to imagine him descending an exceedingly narrow spiral staircase devoid of light, nursing a hunchback each step of the way. But, of course, HoHo is not a medieval castle.
Palmer, a six-year employee and current bar manager, greeted us jovially and got down to business. He had us toss back three shooters, but he was particularly enthusiastic about one.
"Ish's Banana"
Palmer explained that "Ish" is his nickname, and the innuendo clicked. Nice.
"The ladies love it," a female bartender, Tara, teased as she passed.
I looked askance at Palmer.
"She's my girlfriend," he said.
R: It's like the Chiquita woman offered you a puree of fruits from her head basket. Only after a gulp do you realize she must have a flask strapped to her thigh.
L: The only qualms I have with this drink is in its plethora of flavors. Banana and coconut are encountered primarily, but as you continue sipping, an unsavory tangy flavor is introduced. Simplicity is key.
T: I liked the fact that I could taste the alcohol in this drink -- I really like Malibu. I could pick up on the banana, but it wasn't an overpowering taste.
If "Ish's Banana" isn't for you (ha), ask for a "Green Gatorade" or a "Strawberry Vanilla Milkshake."
THE LONDON UNDERGROUND
Snap, snap, snap. That's what I wanted to do when I entered The London Underground, but not in the manner of a pretentious intellect; the place is just cool. The attitude is relaxed and the conversational volume modest.
Their six dart boards were all occupied, and I smirked as I watched a player kiss his flight before a throw.
Manager John Bissey was the only person behind the bar, and his customers were thirsty. He existed mostly as a blur, not unlike a Sonic the Hedgehog spin attack, although I highly doubt Bissey has plans to assault his patrons.
With a few spare moments, Bissey grabbed three glasses and carefully crafted his drink. He gave an eloquent description -- the only bar that did, actually -- of the drink's minimalism symbolizing the determined "meat and potatoes" lifestyle of Irish generations past.
"Irish Eyes"
It's worth noting here that Tweety was very full from prior drinks. As he watched Bissey pour our beverages, Tweety's eyes displayed an apprehension suitable for the shores of Normandy. He found it necessary to hype himself up by feeding the jukebox a dollar and blaring Alice In Chain's "Angry Chair."
"Stomach hurts and I don't care," Layne Staley defiantly sang above our heads.
Staley must have had superior digestion, though, for Tweety couldn't finish Irish Eyes.
R: When I say that the simple syrup pleasantly calmed the drink's bite, some of you might think, "Yeah, just like Tylenol calms the pain of a shattered femur." If you're a fan, Irish Eyes is a solid sipper.
L: Whiskey, anyone? Phew. Personally, I'm not a whiskey drinker, but I did enjoy how the minty nuances brought out the natural sweetness.
T: This drink was made to sip and enjoy over time. The mint leaf has a pleasant smell as you turn up the glass, so the first thing that hits your nose isn't the alcohol. The whiskey taste comes across very easily, but you can pick up the hint of sugar and how well it is working with the whiskey.
Winner: PK's with "The Blarney Stoner"