Small World

Our wee Scottish friend, Dead Susan went to Paris recently. While she was there, she threw on her Dublin jersey and went on the hunt for a good place to watch the football match. After a short search, she and her friend made their way in to a rather empty Australian bar and found a table with a great view of the big screen TV. Susan then offered to get the first round and headed for the bar.

Being a lover of all things Canadian (present company included) Susan was delighted to find that they were serving Molson products. She happily ordered a pint for herself and a black coffee for her friend. After a rather long discussion about whether the glass of ice she asked for was meant for the coffee or the beer, the bartender suggested she sit down and he'd have the drinks delivered to her table.

A few minutes later, an Australian waiter arrived with the drinks and Susan paid him. Obviously intrigued, he struck up a conversation,"So, you like Canadian beer?"

"Yeah," Susan replied, "I love most things Canadian."

"Me too, haven't been there yet, though. So you're not Irish then?"

"No, actually I'm Scottish."

"Right, I thought that's what your accent was...so why the Dublin jersey?"

"I'm living in Dublin just now."

"Cool! I was just there visiting my best friend. He's over there working with homeless kids. We stayed with him when we were there; he lives on one of the Quays right in town."

At this point, Susan remembered covering a shift for a colleague who had a friend coming to stay. After a small argument in her head she said, "Um, his name wouldn't be Patrick by any chance?"

"Too right! Hang on! How could you know that???" he asked, astonished.

"I work with an Aussie named Patrick who lives on Wellington Quay. Small world, eh?"

Indeed.