Days of merrymaking build up to the big day, including the country’s biggest street party, ceilidhs, parades, fireworks, concerts, bottomless pint glasses and limitless craic.
On that same day last week, we discovered "The League" was hosting a rooftop party in anticipation of the app's August 1 launch in Seattle. Chase and his small cloister of gays spent the evening dodging the advances of drunk women.
We didn't know how to access the roof, and we made a big deal about "casing the joint," but it turned out all we had to do was find the elevator, tell the hosts we signed up, and look dumb when they asked why our names weren't on the list. Complaints about Lyft rates from Capitol Hill to Ballard during rush hour dominated the first few conversations he overheard: "It was $41. It was like Go Fish, but instead of matching suits, you had to match reprehensible millennial identities such as "The 'Gram' Lover," "The Snapchat Supporter," "The Finance Bro," and "The Hippy Creative." Sometimes the identities corresponded to the real jobs people had. Rich spoke with a second-grade teacher from Central Washington who lives in Mukilteo, a person who sells X-ray machines to veterinarians in Bothell, a recruiter who prefers a different word for recruiter, a third-year medical student, and a person whose job it was to think about "the future of jobs" in ways he found both annoying and somewhat interesting.
The only hint of romance happened around p.m., when two rogue gays noted Chase's group and advanced.
"They can sense the Grindr," a gay whispered to Chase.
The city has blossomed into a foodie mecca, with sophisticated gourmet eateries, creative chefs and international flavours.