Flash Fiction -- Uncle Seamus Gets in Trouble on Saint Patty’s Day

As we know, on St. Patty’s Day, too many people get  woozy with the boozy. Cops in patrol cars roam the streets trolling for inebriated drivers. 

The last St. Patty’s Day, my neighbor’s, friend’s uncle, Seamus, celebrated at a local Boston pub. He was driving to his suburban home at 2:30 a.m. when a female cop came up behind him and flashed her lights, telling him to pull over.

He rolled down his window and reached for his wallet—knowing the drill. Seamus heard her ask him where he’d been and where he was going at this time of night. 

He had learned to slow down his speaking to control his drunken slur, and with precision he said, “I was coming from my friend’s house.” (The local bar was called “My Friend’s House.”)

She waited, flashing a light in his eyes. Blanching, he said, “And now I’m going to a lecture.”

An “I-gotcha” look crossed her face and she said, “What lecture are you going to at 2:30 a.m.?”

Seamus controlled his trembling and spoke as slowly as he could. “I am going to a lecture on self-discipline and the negative impact of alcohol on your body, and the importance of setting a good example for children.”

The cop, eyes widened in disbelief said, “And just where is this lecture taking place?”

Uncle Seamus felt smart. He knew the answer to this one. “In the entryway of my house as soon as my wife opens the door and sees my condition.”

After her long-winded, cackling laughter dissipated and she wiped a tear from her eye, the officer exclaimed, “Oh my gawd. I have got to see this. Move over, I’m driving!”