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Monday, March 18, 2013

Post St Patrick's Day Morn

Her Irish brogue awakened me
And for a split second I thought it was cute
Until I realized how sick I felt
Holy gods what did I do last night?

Shielding my eyes from the morning light streaming in through the window
I caught sight of a flash of red hair

A ginger

She was wearing a cream cable knit sweater
And not a stitch else
What, was she waiting for her fisherman husband
To come back from the sea?

"My husband is out at sea for a week"


She knelt on the bed
Softly kissing my cheek

"You're so cute
I told you we had an open marriage"

I admitted to vaguely recalling such a thing
Before making a run to the bathroom
To throw up
But in a very dignified way
Accompanied by her light laughter

I didn't appreciate it
And scowled out the door to her
Which just made her laugh harder

I wasn't sure why I'd come home with her
Though she did have quite a wiggle to her as she walked

After getting dressed
I took her up on an offer of breakfast
And allowed myself to be led out the door and down the street
Which made me growl as the fresh air hit me
Turning my stomach all the more

It was mostly a foul feeling blur until the food showed up
Filling our small bench seated cubby of the pub with deliciously nauseating smells

I expressed distaste
She shrugged and started eating anyways
Not wishing to be outdone
I followed suit

And wonders unceasing
With every passing bite of whatever magical food this was
I felt a little better
Soon I noticed that I rather liked the look of her
She wasn't half as annoying
Her face a little more comely
Lips slightly inviting

I think I'll have to figure out what her name might be
Perhaps she's looking for another husband