After work on Sunday we were sitting having a pint, when an Irish couple we’d served during the day came back in. They bought us a pint, and then another one, and then invited us out for dinner. We declined on the meal, but suggested we keep drinking at the pub around the corner.
When we asked where they were from, Emma drew a circle on a piece of paper.
“This is Ireland, and this”, she said, drawing a dot in the middle, “is where we live.”
“It looks like a boob,” Jase deftly observed.
“That’s right,” she replied, “We’re the nipple of Ireland.”
A few more pints later, Emma and Monty were insisting that we stay with them forever.
“Seriously,” she said, “you have to come stay in Ireland. I’ll give you a place to stay for like a few days or five years. And I’ll drive you any where in the country you want to go, any time.”
Done and done.