Pat and Liam

‘I don’t get it, I just can’t stop getting things wrong!’

And with that Pat hung his head in his hands and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

On the park bench beside Pat was Liam, Pat’s best friend, who felt woefully under qualified to be consoling Pat right now.

‘What do you think I should do? Or better yet what do you think is wrong with me?’

Pat asked, pulling his head from his hands to look Liam full in the face.

‘Oh shit’ Liam thought to himself. His worst daymare had come true. He was going to have to say something now.

‘Eh … Eh … Mmm well you know you’ve got to look on the bright side of things. Every cloud has a sliver lining and all that!’

‘Do you mean silver lining?’ Pat interrupted.

‘Eh yeah I do’ Liam continued ‘Because … There is no… You know life is short and you, you’re a great guy! Oh wait no! I know it!!’

Liam jumped off the park bench and stood in front of Pat ecstatic!

‘Come and dance with me!’

‘What?’ said Pat totally bamboozled by this.

‘Yeah come on, dance with me!!!’ Liam shouted gleefully.

‘No feck that’ Pat replied ‘there’s people about’

‘Well I’m going to dance’ Liam shouted and he began.

Pat could safely hold his hand over his heart and state that it was the weirdest dancing he had ever seen.

Well the bits that he did see anyway.

Pat spent a third of the time with his hands over his face, a third watching on in horror and a third nervously looking around to see who else could see this abomination.

One moment Liam was on all fours well threes really because he had one leg arched over his back and he was doing what he called ‘The Scorpion Salsa’.

‘Sit down will ya!’ growled Pat but Liam paid him no notice. Instead he jumped up and exclaimed he was making mustard.

Now Pat had never seen mustard being made but he was fairly certain it wasn’t a pestle and mortar action whilst bouncing up and down.

Only when Pat threatened to leave did Liam sit down.

‘What was all that about?!?’ Pat spat.

‘The point I was trying to make was’ gasped Liam clutching a stitch in his side.

‘Is that you didn’t get up and dance with me. I am also willing to bet that whilst I was rambling away trying to comfort you, you were probably coming up with 10 better things I could’ve said. In fact at one point you stopped me to correct me! Furthermore Ciara tells me that you’re actually in line for an award at work. And you say you played terribly at five a side last night but I thought you played brilliantly. So when you say you keep getting things wrong, I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. So, you tell me Pat, what is the root of all this?’