U-S-Hey

“Well hey there! Where are y’all from?” a man bellows across our table as we collaborate on the crossword, having finished our hotel breakfasts but not our coffees.

“Ireland,” my dad says, and doesn’t return the question, because it’s obvious.

“Ireland?! Oh man, how are things over there?” He squints at us as if glaring into direct sunlight.

“Oh. Eh, they’re alright, yeah,” my dad responds, confused, but friendly.

“Yeah, man that’s good to hear. That’s really good to hear. Because, I mean, they weren’t, right? With the famine and all that?”