Careful Kyle and I went out for Sunday drinks. There’s a little bar that has a free pool table and two-dollar Pabst Blue Ribbon that we go to. We were having a good time when a guy named Lorcan started to mouth off to careful Kyle. It was unprovoked. Lorcan just didn’t like him for some reason. Maybe it had something to do with the turquoise sweat shirt Kyle was wearing. It made him out to be a dork. Lorcan wouldn’t shut up and he looked much like a dork himself.
I vouch for Kyle I told Lorcan. He’s a good guy. A crowd gathered around. There were four men now trying to defuse the situation. Lorcan keep at it. He was a new arrival from Ireland. I guess they have a different way of doing things in Ireland, more direct. Kyle wanted to leave, but I persuaded him to stay. This Lorcan guy was nuts. He wasn’t making any sense. He didn’t like Kyle and he didn’t even know him. He didn’t know that Kyle had hidden talents for making beer and that he was a good guy who was lost like the rest of us. I finally convinced Lorcan that Kyle was worthy of his respect and everything calmed down.
Come to find out that Lorcan means troublemaker in Irish. And Lorcan was Lorcan the sixth. He came from a proud family of Lorcan’s. It all made sense then. He was the joker from a long line of troublemakers.
We have royalty here! I said. We got back to drinking.
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