A Face in The Crowd

 Gerard didn't even want to go out on St. Paddy's day, but someone from work told him he needed a Rueben from the pub. Of course, he didn't know what that was. Although, his co-worker told him they were famous in Omaha.

"It's the best sandwich around. And we made it famous," Cole told him. Of course, he could have been drunk on the green beer already. Another thing Gerard didn't want to try. Ugh, he was not used to this kind of food. Of course, Spam nor Ramen weren't on his diet either. He was a chicken strips kind of guy. But he made do with the fries and watched the chaos begin in the late afternoon.

What would St. Patrick do if he were here? He asked himself. Was there any way he could get back to work? He studies his old wristwatch and someone touched him on the back. 

It felt like prickly ice which made him jump. It was then he noticed the very small girl who didn't look much bigger than a third-grader at his side straddling the bar stool.

He looked her over, thinking she might be an albino, but her eyes were green and..well, she had elfin ears.

Gerard squinted hard. He must have been imagining things. He wasn't drunk. He'd only finished off his fries.

She said she was hungry and asked what was there to eat. Evidently, the green beer was free because she already had a hold of a mug.

"I..I can't eat this," he said and he edged the fat sandwich toward her.

"Why?" She wanted to know. She was Heather from the art department. Gerard looked at her blankly. Frankly, he didn't even know there was an art department at work.

"What?' He really wished he'd brought his glasses because he thought he was seeing things. Cole went off to sing some Flogging Molly tune and it made Gerard cringe.

"The sandwich," she said. "What's wrong with the sandwich?"

"I..I'm just not a fan of the Ruben, evidently." He shrugged. In the next moment, she was already eating it as if she was famished.

"Do you come here often?" He asked.

"Never."

But she told him she usually heard sweet tavern music when she passed by. She didn't know it was this rowdy.

"I'm not even Irish," he told her.

"I'm Norwegian," she said.

"I hear they've really cracked down on the pubs in Ireland," Gerard said his mother went on a women's group trip to Dublin. However, his mother managed to get in a fight with one of the chaperones and ended up on the streets for a day and a half. "I'm not a thing like her." He assured her.

She only smiled. "But I might be."