Chapter 12Adam O’Cooke and Billy O’Wentworth
At close to midnight on March 16, Casey and I sat at a bar. Green garland and gold foil wrapped chocolate coins scattered in front of us and on all nine tables shimmered in ambient light perfect for kissing in the corner. There were rainbow flags in every mixed drink glass, across the front of the bar, and one that lit up hanging overhead. We’d made a plan to sneak into the lineup with our own little pride flags to protest the fact all rainbow insignia and paraphernalia had been banned for marchers in 2014, but I doubted we would. Prison porn had never been my thing.
Rock Hard Café, a gay bar down in the village whose owner liked a good pun, was having a Sexy Leprechaun Night on St. Paddy’s Day Eve. Casey had dressed for the occasion—in green
