Saint Patrick's Day 2: Sheila's Revenge by Jeff O'Brien

Author:Jeff O'Brien [O'Brien, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-02T22:00:00+00:00

*

The giant clock tower of downtown Everett was one minute away from striking midnight. It would soon be Saint Patrick’s Day - officially. Since the events of last year, there had been much superstitious talk and paranoia about the holiday. The town’s residents had been making all kinds of claims about hearing the cries of banshees in the night. Talk of seeing strange little men in green suits and hats scurrying about the alleyways and backyards of the town. In Everett, Saint Patrick’s Day had suddenly become something a lot more like Halloween in Salem.

Brian, one of Everett’s many local partiers, stumbled out of O’Donovan’s, the very strip club where Seamus Kelly Junior had allegedly emerged and been brought to death last year. After lighting his smoke, he looked around at the revelers up and down the road, partying under the shadow of the clock tower. Most of the other establishments there were also Irish pubs, just not strip clubs too, and all were operating as if it were Saint Patrick’s Day and not the night before. Though, since the clock had struck midnight, it technically was Saint Patrick’s Day. But whatever. Anyhow, some people were dancing to the Irish folk music booming from the patios of the surrounding bars. Others were engaging in verbal battle with the street preachers warning the town of the sin that was now attached to the holiday. Brian particularly enjoyed the scantily clad goth girls taunting the street preachers.

Those preachers certainly are annoying, thought Brian as he looked up to the giant, old clock that towered above Everett. But not as annoying as the massive corporate bank logo emblazoned on the brick tower right below the clock, robbing the timepiece of its majesty. It did, however, remind him that there was an ATM there, which he’d have to take a walk over to since he’d already thrown down most of his cash on lap dances. Like most respectable strip clubs, this one was a cash-only establishment.

The door of the strip club came open and out came a pleasant sight - the stripper Brian had gotten three lap dances from. She was dressed now, of course, but looking no less magnificent in her hoodie and jeans.

“Shift over?” asked Brian, smiling wide.

The stripper lit a cigarette and cast him an uncomfortable scowl. “Yup.” There was no mistaking the look in her eyes for anything else other than discomfort and disgust.

Brian shared in the awkwardness, nodding and looking away, wishing he hadn’t spoken.

A massive bouncer came out for a smoke just a moment later, taking a spot next to the stripper. Brian unconsciously inched away a few steps.

“Finally,” groaned the stripper. “Seems like everyone is keeping me waiting tonight.”

“Sorry,” offered the hulking bouncer. “You could have just waited a second. It sucks for all of us now that Raven won’t let us smoke backstage anymore.”

“Just busting balls, Brutus,” laughed the stripper. “But I can’t believe we had four no-call no-shows tonight.”

“Yeah,” said Brutus. “Who was it? Bonnie. Erin…”

“Molly and Fiona too,” said the stripper.

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