Check out more of Joe Heaney’s storytelling on his website.
I, too, have met the Short Little Man.
He didn’t look anything like Fionn’s companion, of course. Things are different in North America.
It was a day or two before I moved to Australia. One thing I still needed to do was drive back to my office and pick up my bike. (I built it myself, so no way was I going to abandon it.)
It was a Saturday. I never visited my office on the weekend, which should have put me on my guard to begin with. Outside of routine, your office really isn’t your office. Once-familiar places can become haunts for the surreal and unexpected.
I parked half a block from the entrance. All I had to do was walk up the hill, use my card to open the garage, get to the bike rack, walk my bike to my car and drive off. It should’ve taken about four minutes.
I was busying myself looking for quarters for the meter—they still used change then—when he walked up to me. Started in with the whole dance that everyone who works in D.C. is familiar with. Excuse me do you have any money or spare change for some food and some etc. I absently replied with something about only having a card on me and waved him off.
He was having none of it.
He planted himself in front of me, looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Come on, man, I’m just trying to get something to eat!”
“Yeah?” I said. “Whadda ya want?”
Without skipping a beat, he said, “A burger.”
Right behind him, over his shoulder and across the street, there was a Five Guys.
Something you should know about Five Guys burgers: They’re a big chain in America now, but they started in D.C. I can’t vouch for the ones you’ll find in strip malls in Ohio, New York or Pennsylvania, but the D.C. Five Guys are something else entirely. Never frozen, perfectly sourced patties that come with fries freshly bathed in peanut oil. Not with a stick could you ever beat those burgers.
You can’t really argue with a guy who knows what he wants. So we walked across the street and we both had some Five Guys.
I remember the confusion on the cashier’s face and a couple of stolen glances by other customers, but other than that it was a fairly normal affair. He didn’t order anything extravagant and neither did I. I don’t remember whether we got our tray of peanuts. Then we ate and went our separate ways.
I like this story for a whole lot of reasons. Not least because it’ll allow you to put one over on the Film Studies majors out there. “It all started with Seven Samurai, did it? Well, listen to this!” It also reminds me of the story of the Road to Emmaus. Recall that Fionn asked God to guide him before he even stepped out the door. It’s eye-opening, what that can truly entail.
