Last St. Patrick’s Day, a friend of mine and I decided to hit the grand ‘ole pub to have a couple green beers. The line to get in the place was so ridiculous that we opted to keep it classy and bounced to the nearest 7-11, grabbed a 40 in a brown paper bag and stopped by the Subway next door for a sandwich. I was hungry, but more focused on drinking my beer than scarfing down a 6” club with onions before sweeping my future Irish husband away my killer dance moves and breathe. I stuck it in my purse to save for later as we walk into another bar. We found that a lot of the Irish men had the same temperament as me, refusing to stand in line (typical LA b.s.) and fled here as well. I thought to myself “I like their style. They don’t wait around for a drink either - typical Irishman.”
We meet a group of guys that were practically straight off the boat from Ireland. We took down green beers, green shots... more green beers and more green shots. Even though I’m not Irish, I was definitely keeping up with the best of them! I had my eye on this half Irish, half English Leprechaun Larry (so not a ginger) and as the night progressed, it became apparent that we were both getting a little flirtatious and frisky. For some reason, he felt the need to keep lifting me up. WTF is that all about?!?!
We decided to leave the bar and walk to Leprechaun Larry’s house around the corner for a few games of beer pong - which I must admit - I’m pretty damn good. As soon as we walked out of the bar door, he tried to lift me up to give me a piggy back ride. I kindly turned down the offer, but he literally begged that I ride his back. I had on comfortable heels (yes, there is such a thing) and I could walk in a semi-straight line. No thanks! Besides, I was itching to dive into my sandwich that has been patiently waiting for me to eat it all night.
I dig into my purse to pull out my 6” club and took one orgasmic bite. (Mmmmmmm..... I can still taste it now.) All of a sudden, I was swooped up out of nowhere, sandwich in hand, on the back of this little leprechaun running down the street. He trips and we both fall to the ground. Sandwich - EVERYWHERE! I adopted a beautiful scrape on my forearm from the fall and let out a loud “NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!” It was a “I’m about to die” scream and was about in tears because my sandwich was gone. I picked myself up. Took one scolding look at him, grabbed my friend’s hand, turned and walked the other way.
I’m convinced that the piggy back ride was Leprechaun Larry’s mating call, but when he comes between me and my food, you better believe - he is not getting me lucky charms near his wee leprechaun balls.
Xoxo Magnum Magnet
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