There was something...something about him.
“What shall we do with the drunken sailor?
What shall we do with the drunken sailor?
What shall we do with the drunken sailor?
Early in the morning?”
Tiana smiled. It was St Patrick’s ngày and the dimly lit Blue Moon bar was filled with both Irish and Irish American people alike. Several of her customers had started hát the song “Drunken Sailor” in overly exaggerated Irish accents as she passed them another Shamrock cocktail.
“Way-hey and up she rises!
Way-hey and up she rises!
Way-hey and up she rises!
Early in the morning!”
The only customer not joining in the rowdy celebrations...
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