Blarney Rock, 6:30 PM:
T from Queens: You look like dat guy from Linkin Park.
Me: Who's that?
T: That fuckin' guy. Ya don't know who Linkin Park is? I'm old and I know who Linkin Park is.
Me: I've heard of them!
T: Yeah, I just fuckin' got out I jail and I even know who Linkin Park is, fuckin' guy.
***
T: I seen every fuckin' band. I know em all. I'm old. I had 15 tickets in row numba 10 to see Lynyrd Skynyrd -- it was 1977 -- I'm old. I had all this whole row reserved. Then the whole fuckin' band got killed in a plane crash a month before.
Me: Shit. Did you get your money back?
T: Nah. T-Rex and Jethro Tull played instead. It was crap.
Me: I like T-Rex!
T: Whateva. Ask me any band. I seen em.
***
T: Sometimes, you know, a guy fuckin' pushes ya over the edge. I'm a gentleman. Ya don't fuck with me, I don't fuck with you.
R, bartender from Ireland: Dere's no udder way.
T: But you push me over da edge...
R: Some guys, ya give em an inch, dey'll take a mile.
T: We're friends for life, man.
Awkward pound/hand clasp.
***
Silence. T's leg brushes subtly against my knee.
T: Uh oh! Sorry!
***
Girlfriend comes in. I go to bathroom.
T, to girlfriend: Why ya all bundled up? It's not that cold.
Girlfriend: [smiling]
T: You're too pretty to be wearing all those clothes.
G: [smiling]
***
Goodbyes all around.
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