"What? I did dress up!"
"Yeah, but is that really appropriate for today?" came the skeptical reply.
She pointed to her bikini top, and squeezed her cleavage. "Do you not see the shamrock?"
"Yeah, I do. I also see those fishnets. Are you, uh, hoping to get lucky?"
This led to a giggle.
"Well, I want to look my best for the bar! After all, I can get a ton of free drinks!"
"Dammit Dave, why are you like this? I swear that your outfits get bustier and skimpier every goddamn time."
"Hey man, don't hate. I'm just channeling my inner Irish spirit, and you're just jealous that you actually have to pay for your Guinness."
"You mean the "Irish spirit" of your bodysuit. And I at least don't catfish people."
"Don't hate the player, hate the game."
"...you know what, I'm not going to argue this with you now. And I need a drink if I'm going to get through today with you."
Dave, in his suit, smiled at his friend.
"That's the spirit! Now come on, I've Irish car bombs calling my name!"
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