Missed Connections at Queen's: Saint Patrick's Day Edition

The Journal helps students get lucky after St. Patty's weekend

On St. Patty’s, you’re bound to meet someone.

If you spent St. Patrick’s Day milling around Aberdeen Street or dancing your heart out in a friend-of-a-friend’s backyard, chances are you met someone memorable. Whether you actually found the nerve—or had the composure—to ask for this person’s name or contact information is another story.

Following this St. Patrick’s Day, The Journal wants to help students connect with the ones that got away during the weekend of green festivities, four-leaf clovers, and good times. If you think you’re the special someone mentioned in one of these anonymous stories and want to contact the writer, email journal_lifestyle@ams.queensu.ca.


I was frolicking down Aberdeen with my friends around 11 a.m. or 12 p.m., having a wonderful, boozy St. Patty’s. Somewhere near the intersection, there was a group of boys yelling, “Who wants face paint?” Of course, I started screaming, “I do!” and stumbled into their group, eagerly awaiting to be drawn on. 

Now I’m not sure what I expected, but I guess I was waiting for some cute green stripes on my cheeks. Instead, I got an artistic rendition of a phallus on my forehead, which I proudly wore for the rest of the day. I actually refused to wash it off and tried to stamp it onto my friends too. 

My memory of the boys’ appearances, however, is rather vague—lots of green beads, sunglasses, a hat maybe, and lots more green apparel. 

Regardless, it was a highlight of my day. Not sure who you guys are, but I’d love to grab drinks some time!


I wasn’t drinking for St. Patty’s because I worked that night for Walkhome, but I decided to make the trek to McDonald’s for a seasonal Shamrock Shake. I entered the establishment only to see a mirror image of Aberdeen: too many students in too small a space. 

I made my way to the self-serve station and ordered my drink. During this process, a man poked his head in between the machine and the window, staring at me. I asked how he was doing and he immediately asked if I wanted to make out with him. 

I politely declined, as I was clearly not on this man’s intoxication level. But we made a pact that if we saw each other later in the day we’d indeed make out with each other. 

I went to work that night realizing I probably wouldn’t see him to make right our pinky promise. 

I write this quite saddened—a missed opportunity and a milkshake that was drank with no companion to share it with. I’d like 

to think that if I’d been drinking, I would’ve made out with him in the middle of a McDonald’s on St. Patty’s without considering the consequences. But, alas.


I was at Ale House this past Sunday night having a good time dancing. All of a sudden, a tall guy with dark hair came up to me and started dancing behind me for a minute before spinning me around to introduce himself. 

I think he said his name is Jace, but it might be Chase or something similar. I couldn’t hear well. I introduced myself and he asked if he could kiss me. I said okay and we kissed for a bit, and then the only thing that came out of my mouth afterwards was, “Was that a bet?” He answered, “No.”

While this was happening, his friend came over to apologize to my friend, saying, “Sorry, my friend is really into your friend. He’s lovesick.” So, looking back, it seems less like a drunken make out and more like he was potentially interested.

After kissing, we briefly talked about school. He said he goes to Queen’s and mentioned something about economics. I gave him a weird handshake after we talked and he said he was headed to the bathroom. We never ended up seeing each other the rest of the night. He never got my number.


After four wild days of fun leading up to and including St. Patrick’s Day, I was exhausted. Still, I ended up at The Spot on Sunday night.

I was just vibing to music when this very pretty girl came by. She was wearing a cute crop top with the words “Sex, Drugs & Leprechauns” written on it. I really wanted to go up to her and say that if she leaves out the middle word, I could provide the rest.

Unfortunately, being so tired and not having enough energy or courage to interact with her, I just weirdly stood there and stared. By the time I woke from my reverie, she was gone.

If you read this, I’m really sorry for leaving you hanging. I hope we meet again and I can make up for it.


I went to Ale House on Thursday night for the Shamrocked event. My friend had a pre at her house and we got pretty wild. Once we got to Ale, we made a beeline for the dance floor.

The place was packed and this guy named Matthew who was wearing a black T-shirt came over and started dancing with me. We started making out and I almost fell into the crowd but he heroically caught me.

My friends eventually decided that it was time to leave and pulled me away from him before I could get any more of his information. I drunkenly walked out of the club and Ubered back to Victoria Hall. I woke up the next morning with a massive hangover and a slight sadness that I never got this boy’s number.

Matthew, you were so cute and nice. Thanks for a fun night!


On my way to Aberdeen, I met this boy who temporarily joined me and my friends because his friends were being mean to him. He was wearing a plaid shirt and I can only describe him as tall, dark, and handsome. He introduced himself as “Mike with an M.”

We had a lovely conversation. We talked about his Engineering degree, my program and how our respective days were going—just general stuff.

Unfortunately, my best friend's very drunk boyfriend tried to start a fight with Mike for no reason and drove him away. Although I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to my new friend, I did yell at my friend's boyfriend for being mean to Mike with an M.

What could’ve been a lovely, new friendship was sadly ruined by a weird pseudo-masculinity contest. Sad reacts only.


On Sunday, my best friend Katelyn and I found ourselves sitting in a bathroom on Aberdeen. I have zero idea whose house it was or even its address. We were crying about how much we loved each other, which is typical of us when under the influence.

A cute boy opened the door and asked us if we were okay and I asked him if he had any chocolate. He brought us into his bedroom where we met Jane, his adorable girlfriend. So, Katelyn, Matt, Jane, and I all sat in this bedroom for over an hour on St. Patrick’s Day chatting about each of our lives.

When it was time for us to leave, I was sad because I felt so welcomed by them and they were both very kind. Kate and I both agree that we’ll never forget those stellar humans who gave us a very wholesome St. Patty’s experience.

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