St. Patrick’s Day, 2001
Danny P and I had just started a whirlwind European tour, and had the day off in Brussels. Someone had mentioned a do-not-miss open air flea market, so we hit the streets, armed with only our best high school French.
We stop a likely-looking lady.
Becky: Pardonez-moi, ou est..
Danny: Um, ou est le marché? La marché?
Lady: Mmmm.
Becky: En plain air? The marché en plein air, is that right?
Lady: Oh, god, stop. Please speak English.
Danny: Yay! Are you English?
Lady: No, I’m Irish.
Becky: Oh! Hey wait, it’s Saint Patrick’s Day! Your day. Congratulations!
Lady: Uh, thanks?
Thanks to the poor lady, we found the flea market; and that’s where I bought the finest robot items in the world.
No need to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day again, because that was the very best one ever.
Here’s a completely unrelated picture, except that it’s one I took of Danny, the Danny of above, the Danny that I love. I miss you, sir!
How sweet. I think I have pictures of us at that flea market. When I get home I will see if I can post. Happy St. Pattys Day to you young lady!
That picture is extra awesome because of the dizzying effect. It makes me feel like I’ve had a few pints of green beer and I’m almost ready to vomit in the sand next to Danny.
p.s. I know you’re the kind of friend, Becky, who would hold my ponytail back while I heaved. Thanks for that.
Aw! Green vomit. The heart warms at the thought. Oh, wait, no — just bile rising. BEGORRAH!
You are so sweet to think that I could enter that contest. Unfortunately I think their looking for items that are crocheted or knitted, and my little creatures are felted. They specifically state that you must use “yarn” and I use raw wool (pre yarn stage). But I am so touched that you thought my work should be entered. Ahhh schucks!
I love you! You are so good for my ego.