The Luck Of The Irish

, , , | Hopeless | August 31, 2017

(The state where I live is a part of the US where many Irish and Scottish immigrants settled in the 19th and 20th centuries. You’ll find a lot of town names and people’s last names similar to names in those countries. I am on my way to an appointment and have some extra time, so I stop by a coffee shop for a few minutes. I have my coffee and a book, sitting at a little table by myself, when a man who looks to be in his late 60’s or early 70’s comes over with a mug of tea and sits down across from me.)

Older Man: “I hope that’s a good book you’re reading.” *his tone is perfectly friendly, not creepy or intrusive*

Me: *smiles* “It is! It’s a biography of JFK’s life before he became president.”

Older Man: “Excellent! You know he was Irish, I’m sure.”

Me: “Yes, the book talks about his family background quite a bit.”

Older Man: “I happen to be Irish myself!” *he introduces himself, and he does have a very well-known Irish last name* “My grandparents came through Ellis Island not long after they were married.”

Me: “That’s great! My great-grandmother came here from Scotland with her family when she was a little girl.”

(We have a nice chat about family history, and he tells me about a business he used to own in the area. Soon though, I have to leave for my appointment.)

Older Man: “It was very nice talking with you, young lady! I wish you the best in your endeavors.”

Me: “Thank you, very much! It was nice talking with you too.” *I stand up to leave and he shakes my hand*

Older Man: “Now, you remember, if you’re ever having a bad time, or you need cheering up, just look under the tables. That’s where the leprechauns are hiding!”

(He walked out of the cafe before I could respond. The funny thing is, since then, if I have a bad day, sometimes I’ll catch myself peeking under tables. Just in case!)

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