The night the mariachi ghosted: A sleuth contest for misled readers

It was your typical, atypical Monday afternoon shift at our friendly, neighborhood Irish pub.  As any experienced bartender will tell you (there’s more than just me out there, right?), no two shifts are alike, which is what makes our job Continue reading The night the mariachi ghosted: A sleuth contest for misled readers

Anthony goes to Ireland; Here come the Irish!

I have this friend.  Let’s call him Anthony, mainly because that’s his name. Anthony is the kind of man who has neither the time nor the inclination for a pseudonym.  He’s also the kind of man who takes trips on Continue reading Anthony goes to Ireland; Here come the Irish!