A Leprechauns lament
By Lisa Williamson
He sat on his stool grumbling into his beer. I listened and finally I just had to ask him what was wrong? He turned to me, his emerald eyes flashing in a face filled more with character than looks.
“What’s wrong you askin?” His voice was rough and held a burr that was all too familiar on a day like today. “Well let me tell you. Profiling! Racial Profiling is what is wrong!”
He snorted and banged down his beer, the golden fluid sloshing over the top to splash and puddle on the scarred wood of the table. I eased into the chair across from him and tilted me head, my best ‘tell me about it’ look on my face.
He looked at me, more a glare but he continued. “Every year they all decide to dress up in green and start kissing everyone in sight. Wish the luck O’ Irish at you and talk about Lucky Charms of all tings.” He grumbled louder as a pair of drunk college students looked like they wanted to do just that. “Its demeaning it is!”
I hid my smile and nodded. I did understand after all. In these modern days, political correctness was all over but no one thought a thing about what they said on St Patty’s day. He lifted a bushy red brow and then he touched his nose and tried to hide a smile. “But you know about it don’t ya, lassie?”
See like my friend here, I am a wee bit on the short side. It is more obvious on Timothy here but you know what? Leprechauns have rights too. We aren’t cute, we aren’t funny and no, we don’t have a pot of gold for you grubby strangers. Go have your St Patty’s day beer somewhere else. Timothy and I will share our beer here and just you see, the Bunny will take your attention soon enough!
Happy Saint Patricks day everyone.