Chapter 2: Beer & Einstein

I apologize in advance for the jumping around of chapters. Let's lay the blame on my muse, Gertrude. As clearly, she is as my mom would say, "Not wrapped right".

In this chapter, we get to abuse Seamus a little bit more. (Yes, I'm evil.)

Chapter 2: Beer & Einstein

It all started with one too many beers. Einstein is also to blame, but more on that later. All I know is that after my fourth (fifth) beer I found myself in a heated debate with a robust gentlemen, (fat dirt bag), about Einstein’s theory of relativity. Normally what happens when you pin a scrawny Irishman against a burly sailor from Albany the odds are pretty good that the scrawny Irishman will wind up with his nose broken. 

Well that’s exactly what happened. Upon waking up the next morning (late afternoon), the first thing I see is Merle’s craggy face peering into mine. In case you were wondering, this is not a pretty sight even when both eyes function properly.

“Let me guess,” the old man said removing the ice bag from my busted snoz. “You got into an argument, I’m guessing Einstein, and got your clock cleaned.” 

I blinked, and wincing, nodded in the affirmative. 

“Freaking Navy jerk- got me from my blind side.”

“That’s what I figured. Try not to breath through your nose, if you leave it alone you’ll be back to your beautiful self in no time.” Satisfied he plopped the ice bag back on my face and pushed himself up out his chair. 

“I expect you to be in tip-top shape in a few hours. We’ve got to be moving on. Tempus Fugit!”

“All the years you’ve been in this business of ours and you haven’t gotten bored of all the ‘time’ jokes? That’s lame, old man. Lame.” 

“What are you saying, Seamus? Do my jokes tick you off?” Chuckling, Merle left me alone to groan from the pain of his puns. It was going to be a long night.