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I spent last St. Patty’s day in DC. The man I was dating at the time flew me out first class. We toured the city on foot by day and by driver at night. The white house had a died their fountain festively green in spirit. It was an amazing trip.

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I was sent home alone, but it was first class so who I was to complain? Instead of my companion the seat was given to a young black man. He sat in his seat looking straight ahead almost the entire trip, only to get up to let me out of my window seat on occasion as so I could empty my ever filling bladder.

Anyone who has flown first class is of course aware of their complimentary, endless wine service. Well, that and their hot nuts, where else (besides the “Lit Fart“) can you get your mouth on endless, warm, salty nuts free of charge?

It was a five hour flight. By the time we were landing I was toasted and bored. A dangerous combination. So I did what any annoying, drunk whore left alone on a first class flight would do. I reached over and told the poor man sitting next to me, the “Leprechaun story”.

Now before I begin, I must admit I have butchered this story horribly. I was wasted the first time Red told it to me and I was wasted retelling it. I think every time it comes out of my mouth it changes a little.

Let me begin:

~Somewhere, in some small town in Scotland, there lived a friend, of a friend of my friend, Red.

We shall call her Sara.

Sara was throwing a weekend bash with her husband Aaron. Their party started on a Friday night and kept it’s speed well into Sunday evening. By Sunday evening Sara was ready to wind it down. She was a school teacher and she had a class to teach Monday morning. Aaron, in his drunken state, was not ready to end the party. He didn’t have to work that next day or all week for that matter. Aaron had been laid off.

Sara went to bed that night. She woke up early that next morning to find Aaron was still going.

Sara got dressed and went to work. She was on her lunch break when she received a call from Aaron,

“Sara!” it was Aaron, obviously still on his bender, “You must get home immediately! You won’t believe it! I caught a leprechaun! Our days of suffering are over!”

Sara was not pleased. She was very annoyed and ticked off at Aaron. He obviously STILL hadn’t slept.

Sara responds, “Aaron, go to bed now! I’m warning you, if I come home and the party hasn’t stopped there will be hell to pay!”

Several hours later Sara’s work shift ends and she returns home to find the party is still in full swing. She goes on a hunt for Aaron. She finds him in the kitchen. Aaron sees her and says excitedly,

“Sara! Come over here and look at this! Look at my leprechaun!”

That’s when it happens,

Aaron then opens the door to the kitchen cabinet to expose a little boy with downs syndrome. He is shaking and clenching his backpack.

You see down the street from Sara and Aaron’s house is a bus stop for a school for mentally challenged children. Aaron grabbed his leprachan early that morning while he was waiting for his little, yellow, school bus. He had been locked in the cabinet all day.

In a panic Sara loads the kid into her car and drops him back at the bus stop.~

What a festive, St. Patty’s Day story right?

My co-passenger did not think so. He blinked a few times. Then he said to me,

“What the hell is wrong with you? Someone has had too much to drink.”

“Perhaps.” I mumbled back.

Then he turned back facing the front of his seat.

We didn’t know it yet but our plane was just about to have an hour delay at the gate. Talk about uncomfortable silence.

Donut liked this story.

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