Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
I Believed In Leprechauns - 1. Chapter 1
I believed in Leprechauns
I told myself after last year’s bacchanalia on St. Paddy’s Day, March 17, 2020, that I was done with green beer and corned beef with all the fixins. More to the point that this year, it once again fell on a work day, a Tuesday to be precise.
While I enjoyed my work, the owners of the company were social and moral puritans. If there was one hard and fast unwritten rule it was, that one was never sick on a Monday or a Friday. It simply wasn’t done nor the image the firm wished to convey.
Lasts years festivities happened on ‘Hump Day’ and once the quiet nod to those in the office went out, that there would be an unofficial gathering at McSorley’s after work, and like Lemmings found ourselves traipsing over the threshold to the pungent aroma of corned beef and cabbage, barely masking the scent of the green beer my feet were sticking to, on the floor.
Somehow, I made it home in one piece and woke to my everlasting regret with a mouth that felt like a box of cotton balls had been a snack at some point during the night. By the time I had finished my morning ablutions the shakes were somewhat gone. I hadn’t carved my face like a roast beef while shaving and I could clearly see out of one eye. Standing wasn’t an issue so long as I kept the good eye covered. It seemed as if it took a half a bottle of Listerine to drown the dragon that slowly stopped breathing fire.
I owed the porcelain goddess a debt I could never possibly repay. I was horrified as the groans and other indescribable effluent that emanated from my lower half. Flushing could only do so much, after emptying the last of the Febreze spray bottle, in a desperate attempt to slay the noxious cloud from infecting my neighbors, the shower beckoned. Like a version of Chinese water torture, icy sharp needles slicing at my flesh, the land of the living slowly began to appear in front of my eyes. Once the water came up to a bearable temp, my biggest concern was how to dispose of the troll who had taken up residence between my temples.
I managed to towel off for the most part, the boxers and tee shirt got caught on what I had missed. Bending over to put my sox on, necessitated a quick trip to purge my empty stomach of contents it was sure were there. Finally dressed and a handful of Advil later, saw me heading out the door to work. While walking to the train station I passed a pernicious, if not a deadly lethal, gas cloud. The effect was nearly instantaneous judging by the way the squirrels and other smaller furry creatures bolted from my presence. Crinkling her nose, a look of alarm on her face, the woman pushing the baby carriage, could have won a 100-meter heat!
On arriving at work, I took comfort that most of my fellow coworkers were in similar condition. Thankfully the rest of the day passed uneventfully and by Friday we were all fully back to the land of the living, with the solemn promise that never again would we let ourselves do something quite so foolish again.
Wednesday, March 17th, 2021
I think it was Bernie in engineering who started the rumor, our favorite men’s bar, McSorley’s was having a two for one special with an Irish, all male step dancing group providing the evening's entertainment. The e mail he sent later in the morning proved that the step dancers were worth the price of admission. The link to the video proved that there would be considerable Gaelic eye candy on hand, at that point I lost my focus and the little head took over.
Shortly after 5PM my fellow, like minded coworkers, found ourselves stepping merrily down to McSorley’s. The beer was flowing, the step dancers proved to be very entertaining and the green beer was flowing. A few scattered shots of Jameson Irish Whiskey didn’t hurt either.
Time flew by as fast as the beer flowed and at one point later in the evening, I found myself standing in front of a urinal, hoping I wasn’t gonna piss green. While I was waiting for my bladder to kick in and get the flow going, I heard the door open and soon felt a presence standing next to me.
Once I felt the pressure release and a good stream going, I glanced over and in my muddled state saw a Leprechaun standing next to me!
I did a double take, shook my head, and looked over again, and there he was…pissing right next to me…an honest to goodness Leprechaun!
Not only was he what I thought he was, but his schlong…johnson...his artful todger, had to have been the biggest, longest fleshy protuberance I had ever seen.
The Leprechaun looked up at me, smiling and winked, “Ay laddie, having a good night?” in a distinctive Irish brogue.
Tongue tied I nodded affirmatively, vaguely remembering my Irish lore, that to catch a Leprechaun meant a wish to be granted. Placing my hand on his shoulder I asked… “Are you a Leprechaun?”
“Aye laddie, you’ve caught me and I’ll grant ye one wish this evening.”
At this point my mind is racing with all sorts of possibilities, and in my drunken stupor, I knew what I wanted…with out a doubt. Pointing down to the immensity between his legs, I simply said, “I want that!”
“You know laddie, in the granting of this wish, I have the right of last use…you sure you want to go through with this?”
I knew just what he meant; he’d be bending me over. I was conflicted, desirous, thinking of all the fun I could have with a weapon like that between my legs. Convincing myself that a few minutes of discomfort, pain assuredly, and I would have the gift of the gods…well Leprechauns!
I managed to croak out a yes, shaking my head in a positive way, I was instructed to drop trousers and hold on to the urinal. All too soon I thought I heard the bathroom door lock and the Leprechaun take his place behind me.
I don’t need to describe the events that followed, you can well imagine the initial discomfort, the soaring heights of ecstasy that sublimely filled my soul. As the end drew nigh, he leaned over and whispered in my ear, “How old are you laddie?”
I replied, “28 years old…why?”
“At 28 years of age…aren’t you a wee bit old to be believing in Leprechaun’s laddie?” As he finished with a grunt.
Stunned and faster than you could say, “Where’s my bowl of Lucky Charms…” he was gone.
Thursday, March 17 2022
It’s 5PM and I am off to McSorley’s…I'm looking for a Leprechaun!
- 4
- 7
- 14
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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